Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Where in the hell is he?” Keith growled, scanning the room for any sign of the man in question. After months and months of wheedling, poking and prodding, Keith had finally conceded and agreed to go to one of Lance’s Zumba classes. And now the culprit was nowhere to be seen.

“He’ll be here,” Shiro assured him. And, yeah, Lance had even convinced their other boyfriend to join. This just wasn’t how their gym dates were supposed to go.

On a typical afternoon or evening, depending, the three would ride the train over together and then go to their respective places. Lance would go off to his Zumba, or yoga, or spinning class, while Shiro and Keith did a few laps around the track before Shiro made his way over to the weight training area and Keith took out some of his aggression on an unsuspecting punching bag. It worked for them.

But lately, Lance had been joining them on their run, making noise about Keith releasing his frustrations in another way. And Shiro, that traitor, had been all for it, even going as far as to volunteer himself.

“He’ll be here,” Shiro said again, placing a hand on Keith’s shoulder and jerking him back to the present.

Still, it was two minutes till, and the only people reflected in the large, mirrored wall were Shiro, Keith, and about fifteen or so women. If Lance didn’t show up in sixty seconds, Keith was out of there.

But then the door opened and in strode their boyfriend, clad in a light blue crop top and a pair of leggings which read ‘Yummy’ on the backside. “Good evening, class,” he greeted before his gaze fell on Keith, a wicked little grin spreading across his face.

He was the damn instructor.

Keith turned wide eyes on Shiro, who didn’t look surprised in the slightest. Then it hit him. “You knew.”

Shiro simply shrugged, raising the volume of his voice just a little as dance music began to fill the room.”He also leads yoga practices on Tuesday and Thursday nights.” And before Keith could wrap his mind around that, he added, “They can be quite challenging.”

Keith gaped and then drew his brows down. “I can’t believe-”

“Hey, you two cuties in the back,” Lance called over the music. “I can’t have you distracting my other students with your chatter.” He put a hand on his hip and motioned toward Keith. “Why don’t you come up to the front of the class, so I can keep an eye on you?”

Keith looked to Shiro for help, but the other was biting his lip in an attempt to keep from laughing.

“Come on. Don’t be shy.” Lance smirked as Keith made his way toward the mirror. Then he winked at him before switching to the warm-up song on his playlist.

Oh, they were going to pay dearly for this.

Chapter Text

Shiro was on rep eight - or was it nine? - of his twelfth set on the butterfly machine, when he noticed Lance staring at his own backside in the mirror, popping it out and then frowning.

Both of his boyfriends had decided to tag along to the weight lifting area today. Keith, to work on his arms and Lance, to warm the bench and look pretty - It’s a tough job, but someone has to do it, he’d said - though, occasionally, he did do a few tricep dips. When he wasn’t forlornly gazing at his own behind, that is.

Shiro returned to his starting position and then exhaled, opening his mouth to ask Lance what was the matter, but the other beat him to it.

“I have no butt,” he complained, arching his back and putting himself on display.

Shiro, who had been admiring the view and captivated by the rhinestone letters on his yoga pants, which read ‘Leg Day,’ blinked and arched an eyebrow, dabbing at the sweat that slid down his temple with  a towel. “What?”

“I,” Lance repeated, gesturing toward his derriere, “have no butt.” He pouted.

“You have a butt,” Shiro argued, unable to keep the fond smile from his lips. And it was a nice one, in his opinion.

“I do not,” Lance replied. “Look at me.” Like Shiro needed an excuse. “My back goes straight into my legs.” Lance paused, whimpering. “I have blegs.”

“What? No, you don’t have-” Shiro shook his head, looking to their other boyfriend for help. “Keith, tell him.”

Keith, who was a few feet away in the free weight area, stopped mid bicep curl and answered without looking up. “I like your blegs.”

Lance’s lower lip quivered and Shiro shot Keith a glare. “Not helping.”

“Fine.” Keith set down his dumbbell and pushed his bangs back, flashing what Shiro could only describe as a Lance-level flirtatious grin. “He knows I love his assets.” And Shiro covered his face with his palm. Seriously?

But, to his surprise, Lance burst out laughing. “Aww, thanks, babe.” But then he shook his head. “I appreciate you two humoring me, but…” He sighed and looked back over his shoulder. “I’m sorely lacking in the booty department.” He bit his lower lip. “Especially compared to you guys…”

At that, Shiro stood up and made his way over. If verbal praise wasn’t going to do the trick, there was one other thing he could try. His ace in the hole, as it were. “I don’t see what the problem is,” he said, walking up behind Lance and pressing his palm firmly against his behind. “Fills my hand just fine.”

Lance sucked in a breath, but before he could produce a witty comeback, Keith was right beside him, grabbing his other cheek and leaning close enough to whisper in his ear. “And he’s got pretty big hands,” he breathed, giving Lance’s butt a squeeze.

Shiro did the same and it was only when Lance let out a breathy little moan, that he remembered they were in a very public place. He cleared his throat, but didn’t remove his hand. “Feel better?” he asked and Lance nodded, slowly opening his eyes.

“My boys…” he sighed happily. “So sweet.”

“But,” Keith began as they broke apart. “If you’re serious about wanting a little more back here-” He gave one last squeeze. “We can work together. Maybe do some squats or-”

“Keith…” Shiro groaned, knowing what was coming.

“Wow, seriously?” Lance spun around and poked Keith in the chest. “This is how you comfort me?”

“Wha–You’re the one who said you didn’t like your butt.” He drew his brows down. “I was just trying to help.”

“Yeah, well, leave the helping to Shiro from now on,” Lance countered, puffing his chest out. “You’re just still mad about the Zumba class, aren’t you? It’s not my fault you’ve got no rhythm!”

Shiro slowly backed away, wiped down his machine before he was noticed, and then headed for the track. He knew they’d calm down after a few laps. Besides, he wasn’t about to be pulled into the middle of-

“SHIRO! TELL HIM!” they shouted in unison and then he was gone, taking off down the hallway before they could catch him.

Yeah, he’d probably regret that later. But he was living in the now.

Chapter Text

Lance’s boyfriends were hot. Like, super unbelievably hot.

It wasn’t fair, really.

Keith, with his dark hair and eyes and his toned chest and abs. And let’s not forget about those thighs that could snap someone’s neck and his oh-so-fine behind. One could bounce quarters off that thing. And Lance knew from experience.

And then there was Shiro. A prime example of what the human body could accomplish. Was there anything that man could not do? He really put the ‘can’ in ‘eye candy.’ A joke which had earned a chuckle from its source material and a scoff from Keith.

So, yeah. Lance’s boyfriends were definitely hot as hell. All pure muscle, and tight tank tops, and sweat beading on their brows during vigorous training.

Of course, that wasn’t to say that Lance didn’t bring it during his own workouts. But he was more of a cardio guy. He could dance or spin for hours. His stamina was endless. And his flexibility? Unmatched. Even by the other yogis who attended his class.

But…if he was to say that he was completely satisfied with his physique… Well, that wouldn’t be completely true.

He’d complained before and his boyfriends, loving and doting as they were, had comforted him. But, Keith was right - loath as Lance was to admit it - if he wanted to tone up and put a little meat on him, he really needed to strength train.

And that was how he found himself flat on his back with Shiro leaning over him, spotting him as Lance pushed the bar away from his chest. Admittedly, Lance’s upper body strength was almost nonexistent. But with a little encouragement from the sexiest personal trainer he knew, he was doing it!

“That’s another five reps,” Shiro said, smiling proudly. “What do you say? Go for a fourth set?” he asked, helping Lance rack the bar.

“Maybe…next time…” Lance panted, his arms feeling like wet noodles.

“Okay.” Shiro gave his shoulder a gentle pat. “That’s enough for tonight.”

At that, Lance relaxed his entire body, letting his eyes slip closed as he exhaled.

“You’re really letting him off with just that?” It was Keith who spoke. Apparently, he’d finished beating one of the poor, defenseless punching bags for the night and had now turned his attention on critiquing Lance’s private lesson.

“He’s still new to this,” Shiro defended him. “And you should know better than anyone what happens when you push yourself too far, too fast.”

“Yeah, Keith.” Lance craned his neck, opening his eyes to focus on the other before he stuck his tongue out. “And,” he added, turning so he was on his stomach, his chin in his palm. “I’ll have you know that I’m improving.” He grinned. “I added another set.”

“Impressive,” Keith mused as he walked closer, running a hand along the bar. “Maybe next time you’ll add weights.”

“Hey!” Lance frowned. It was true that he was just lifting the bar. But it weighed 45 pounds on its own!

“But seriously.” Keith ducked down, his hands still gripping the bar as he leaned in and gave Lance a quick peck on the lips. “You’re doing great, baby.”

Lance flushed at that. Keith hardly ever used pet names, so it always caught him off guard. Still, he recovered, batting his eyelashes. “Thanks, sweet cheeks.”

“Okay, you two,” Shiro interrupted, voice stern - though he was smiling. “Let’s go stretch and then we’ll head home.”

“Ooh!” Lance scrambled off of the bench and stood up. “I want to lead!”

“Oh, no.” Keith shook his head. “You’re going to make us do some of your yoga moves again.” He frowned, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Okay. First of all, they’re poses.” Lance rolled his eyes. “And secondly, you could really use them.” He bit his lower lip. “It’ll help with your…flexibility.”

“I’m plenty flexible, thanks,” Keith harrumphed. 

Lance gave a slow smile, circling Keith like a hunter stalking its prey. “That’s not what Shiro says.” And then he took off toward the mats, cackling as Keith sputtered something unintelligible and immediately chased after him.

He’d apologize later for making Shiro wipe down the machine - again - but it had totally been worth it.

Chapter Text

Lance was doing it on purpose. Of that, Keith was one hundred percent sure.

He and Shiro had just finished their weight training- the dreaded Leg Day - when Lance came over to join them, still sweating from the Zumba class he’d led. He always sought them out for a good stretch on cardio nights, since his ridiculously limber body required more than what one got during the average cool down and he didn’t want to do it by himself in the classroom.

And, as usual, Lance had his foam roller with him. It was blue and looked a lot like a rolled up yoga mat. Keith knew a few guys on the track team back in high school who’d used them, but he never understood the draw. Lance, however, swore by it.

“Mmm...” Lance moaned. He had his legs crossed, balanced on the roller, and his hands down, his arms holding his butt off of the mat. He pushed forward and his eyes rolled into the back of his head as another sinful noise escaped his lips. “Yes...so good...”

Keith knew there was no way in hell that it felt that mind-blowingly fantastic. No. Lance was up to something.

“Can you and that thing get a room?” Keith tried to sound nonchalant. “This is a public place.”

“Hmm?” Lance’s eyelids fluttered open. “What’s that, babe?” he practically purred. “I can’t hear you over how amazing this feels.”

Oh, yeah. He was up to something, all right.

Lance was clearly trying to get back at him. But, the thing was, Keith couldn't figure out why. In fact, the two hadn’t really bickered much lately at all. And Keith had already paid for the whole booty suggestion. So, what was his angle?

“A-Ah...” Lance gasped. He was on his side now, rolling it back and forth over his hip. “Oh, Shiro...hnn...you were right.” He craned his neck, batting his eyelashes at their other boyfriend. “This is so much better than a massage.” He bit his lower lip and Shiro visibly swallowed.

So, that was it. Keith wasn’t Lance’s target. It was Shiro.

Lance continued moaning, putting on a show, and Keith had to bite back a snicker at the way Shiro’s legs shook. They’d hit it pretty hard today, but Keith was certain their workout wasn’t the cause.

Keith didn’t know what Shiro had done, but whatever it was, he was paying for it now.

“Mmmn...” Lance moved so he was sitting on the ground. “Now that I’m all rolled out, I could use a good stretch.” He spread his legs wide and looked over his shoulder. “Keith, could you give me a hand?”

Keith glanced over at Shiro, who sent him an almost pleading look. Well, he thought, as he smirked wide, he wasn’t about to let Lance have all the fun.

So, Keith made his way over to Lance and placed both of his hands on the other’s back. He knew Lance didn’t really need his help. And, sure enough, the moment Keith applied the slightest bit of pressure, Lance folded over, his nose almost brushing the mat.

“That good, baby?” Keith asked, sneaking a peek at Shiro.

“Mm, Keith...harder...” Lance turned his head and gasped. Keith slid his palms up just a hair and Lance all but wailed. “Right there!”

At that, Shiro shot up, nearly knocking over his water bottle. “Going to get my bag,” he muttered, before taking off toward the locker room.

Keith moved his hands and Lance sat back up. They watched Shiro’s form disappear down the hallway before they both started laughing.

“Looks like we’re going home early,” Lance snorted. Then he nudged Keith with his shoulder. “Thanks for helping out, by the way.”

“No problem,” he replied with a slight shake of his head. “What did Shiro do, anyway?”

“Oh, he knows,” Lance answered as he stood up. “Anyway,” he offered Keith  a hand. “Let’s go before he leaves without us.”

“I don’t think he will,” Keith said. “Not after that display.”

“Even so, let’s hurry,” Lance began, following Shiro’s path from earlier. Then he paused and gave Keith a coy look over his shoulder. “Someone owes me a massage.”

Chapter Text

Shiro was going on and on about the proper stance and lifting techniques and how important posture was, but all Lance noticed was the way his mouth moved as he spoke. And how his lips - which Lance knew from experience were warm and soft, if not a little chapped - formed around the words. 

Oh, and when his tongue peeked out to quickly wet his lips, Lance nearly swooned.

He had it bad. He knew that. Thank you very much.

But he couldn’t help it. Shiro was just so...Shiro. Sweet and kind. Big and strong. He could be strict - like when it came to Lance’s personal training at the gym - but, overall, he was a big ol’ softy. And he was super sexy to boot. With those broad shoulders and perfectly kissable lips.

“So, do you think you’re ready to start?” Shiro asked, pulling Lance from his thoughts.

“Hmm?” He blinked, tearing his eyes away from Shiro’s mouth and meeting the other’s gaze. “What’s that?”

Shiro sighed. Not the overly annoyed and frustrated kind that Lance so often pulled from their other boyfriend. In fact, Shiro’s was almost fond, his lips curving up in a soft smile.

“You weren’t paying attention, were you?” he asked with a slight shake of his head. “Let me try again. Where did you drift off?”

But instead of answering that question, Lance replied with one of his own. “Is it bad that I really want to kiss you right now?” he asked, fluttering his eyelashes innocently.

Shiro’s smile faltered for a moment, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline. Then, a telltale pink began to dust his cheeks, quickly darkening and staining the rest of his face, along with his neck almost down to his chest. “Wh-What?!” he stammered.

It was cute how innocent their boyfriend could be. Well, not all the time, but...

“Sorry,” Lance said, not sounding apologetic in the least. “I just can’t help it, you know?” 

At that, Shiro’s gaze dropped to Lance’s lips and he visibly swallowed.

Hook. Line. And sinker. And Lance didn’t even like fishing.

He walked closer, wrapping his arms around Shiro’s neck and jutting his lower lip out cutely. “Is that no good?”

Lance could practically hear the older man’s inner monologue. ‘We’re at the gym. Public place. Patience yields focus,’ on repeat. But Lance distracted him, raking his blunt fingernails over Shiro’s scalp and reveling in the shaky sigh it elicited.

He was about to open his mouth, say something that would be the metaphorical cherry on top, but then Shiro’s lips were against his. Lance smiled into the kiss, slipping his eyes closed and pressing closer.

They could use a rest day, anyway.

Chapter Text

Keith walked into the gym by himself. Normally, the three of them would come together, but his schedule had gotten messed up at work and he’d told his boyfriends that they didn’t have to wait for him. It was a late start, but he could at least get a few laps in before Lance and Shiro decided it was time to call it quits.

Speaking of his boyfriends, Keith overheard someone saying one of their names. He paused and glanced over. There were two girls with sweat-dampened bangs and towels around their necks, standing beside the check-in counter.

“Yeah, I think his name is Lance,” one of them said in response to the other’s question. “He’s super cute, right?”

Now, past Keith would have gotten a little miffed by that. Past Keith, who was insecure and unsure of where he stood. Past Keith, who had a real mean jealous streak.

“And he’s such a good dancer!” the other gushed. Clearly they’d just finished Lance’s Zumba class. “He’s just so sexy, you know?”

Oh, past Keith would have had a field day with that one.

“I know! And his butt,” the first one replied with a giggle. “Do you think he’s seeing anyone?”

Now, Keith had a few options. He could march right over to them and kindly explain that, yes, Lance was seeing someone. Two someones, in fact. And that he was one of them. Or...

He could listen to what else they had to say. Lance so rarely got to hear what others though of him. Much as he liked to flounce about, fishing for compliments, he really didn’t think much of himself, physically speaking. And Keith wanted nothing more than for his boyfriend to feel as attractive as both Keith and Shiro knew he was.

So, he did something past Keith would have died before even considering. He sidled up alongside the girls and propped an elbow on the counter. “Are you talking about that hot Zumba instructor?”

They blinked in surprise, but then immediately continued, showering Lance with compliments he otherwise would not have heard - not that he was listening now, but Keith would be sure not to miss a single one when he recounted their conversation to him later.

When they were done, the girls bid him goodnight and left the gym. Keith had definitely lost some workout time, but seeing Lance’s face light up when he heard what he had to say would be worth it.

“I saw that,” Shiro said, appearing as if from nowhere. How did he do that?

Keith played it cool. “Saw what?”

“What you did for Lance just now.” He smiled, sweat dripping down the sides of his face and plopping onto the towel around his neck. “That was really sweet, Keith.”

“Yeah, well...don’t get used to it,” he replied, though he knew Shiro could see right through him. He was smitten. They both were.

“Hey, guys!” Lance’s voice drifted down the hallway. He bounded over to them, a bright smile on his face. “What are you two doing up here?”

“Keith had something he wanted to share,” Shiro said before sneaking off, making some excuse about hitting the showers. Keith glared at his retreating back, but then turned toward Lance, who cocked his head to the side, looking up at him expectantly.

“What’s up?” he asked, eyes large and inquisitive.

Keith was a goner.

But he took a deep breath and wrapped an arm around Lance’s waist, leading him down the hallway and toward the track. “You’ll never guess what I just overheard.”

Chapter Text

“No way,” Keith snapped. “We are not doing one of your videos.”

“Why not?” Lance replied with a frown, his hands on his hips. “It’s not like you have any better ideas.”

Shiro sighed. The long-suffering sigh of a man missing chest and ab day.

He glanced over at the window just as it lit up with another lightning strike. The gym wasn’t closed, but they’d urged their patrons to stay in that evening, going as far as to cancel all of their classes.

It wouldn’t have been so bad if the three of them weren’t in desperate need of some form of exercise. They’d been cooped up all day at work or in class and now their mounting frustrations had come to a head.

“Don’t you speak ill of Shaun T in my home!” Lance practically screeched, interrupting Shiro’s thoughts as he dived for his DVD, which Keith had picked up and mocked only seconds earlier.

“Please.” Keith rolled his eyes, narrowly avoiding a lap full of Lance. He jumped out of the way and held the DVD case back and out of reach. “And what kind of name is Insanity for a workout, anyway?”

Lance huffed and plucked the case from Keith’s fingers, an easy feat for one so long-limbed. “If you’d ever try it, you’d understand.” Lance brushed off whatever invisible dust was on the box and set it back in its proper place. “You might like it, you know.”

“Not if it’s anything like your Zumba videos,” Keith returned, arms crossed over his chest.

“Again, not my fault you’ve got no rhythm.” Lance mirrored Keith, his thin brows drawn down. “Anyway, if you’re so against all of my suggestions, why don’t you pick something?”

“I’m still down for a quick run,” Keith replied with a shrug.

“What? No!” Lance gaped. “It’s pouring outside and you’ll end up getting struck by lightning and then where would we be?” He sighed, turning his attention on Shiro. “Shiro, tell him.”

“You’re not going out in this weather, Keith,” Shiro said firmly, hating that he sounded like his parent, but knowing that Keith needed to hear it from anyone other than Lance. 

“Then what do you propose we do?” Keith asked, uncrossing his arms and letting them rest at his sides. “I’m all keyed up and I need to do something.”

Oh, did Shiro ever understand that. He was about ready to jump out of his skin.

“Yeah, Shiro,” Lance joined in. “We’ll do whatever you decide.”

Shiro took a deep breath, gaze flicking from one boyfriend to the other. Then he decided. “Maybe we should give Insanity a try.”

Lance beamed and Keith deflated. “Seriously?” He frowned.

“I’ve seen a few commercials and it doesn’t seem to involve any dancing,” Shiro promised and Lance immediately piled on.

“Yes! You don’t need any rhythm at all, Keith! It’s perfect for you!” Lance might have been teasing him, but his tone was filled with too much excitement for his words to come across that way. “Let’s start with the circuit training!” Lance gushed and bent down to find the correct DVD.

Keith quirked a brow, but the glance he shot Shiro looked hopeful. “Circuit training, huh?” he mused. “Doesn’t sound too bad...”

And it wasn’t. The workout was an interesting mix of cardio and strength training. They’d just finished the warm-up and the instructor was having them stretch. It felt good.

“I told you you’d like it,” Lance said, sweat dripping down his face as they were instructed to go into a deep lunge. “It’s good, right?”

“It’s tolerable.” Keith shrugged, ever the stubborn one.

Shiro just took a deep inhale through his nose and stood up, ready to move on to the quad stretch. Just like on the screen, he lifted one leg up, bending at the knee as he gripped his ankle with one hand and put the other out for balance.

Lance had no problem, of course. He’d even lifted his foot higher, his toes brushing the back of his head. Keith, on the other hand, was wobbling.

“What’s wrong, Keith?” Lance asked, heel-toeing his way closer. “No rhythm and no balance?” He jutted his lower lip out in a fake pout.

Keith growled and swung at Lance with his free arm, which Lance easily dodged. But he was so busy laughing, he didn’t see Keith strike again until they both lost their balance and toppled over, landing on the floor in a graceless heap.

“Keeeeeeith...” Lance whined.

“You started it,” Keith shot back.

“All right, you two.” Shiro sighed, releasing his leg and noting that it was time for a scheduled water break. “No more fooling around or I’m going to turn this off and work you both out myself.”

They blinked up at him, their eyes large. Then they exchanged glances, smirks spreading across their faces.

“Oh, really?” Keith asked just as Lance said, “Promise?” and waggled his eyebrows.

Shiro scrubbed his face with his hand. These two were going to be the death of him.

Chapter Text

Keith groaned, kicking the sheets away from his overheated body and flopping onto his other side. His bangs were plastered to his forehead and his clothes clung to him in the worst way.

Well, at least his fever had broken.

It was his own fault. He knew. He’d felt off the entire time at the gym, but he figured it was just fatigue from all the hours he’d picked up at work. Of course, when he nearly dropped a kettlebell onto his foot, he decided enough was enough and told his boyfriends that he was going to go for a run and that he’d meet them at home after.

Big mistake. If the tunnel vision wasn’t enough of a warning, maybe the way the buildings started to slant was. He’d stopped then, bracing a hand against the nearest light post, his vision swimming.

Keith could almost hear Lance’s voice. “Are you sure you just don’t want us to walk you home?” But he shook his head. It was too late now. Still, he turned around and began on the path back to their apartment.

And then it started raining.

Flash forward to the following morning, where Keith had woken up with a fever of just over 104°F. Lance had completely freaked out, fussing over him and sticking cool, damp towels between his thighs, under his armpits, and on his forehead.

Shiro had witnessed Keith sick before, so he was much calmer. Though, there was a worried crease in his brow.

“I’m fine...” Keith croaked, his skin on fire. “My temperature usually runs a little high, anyway.”

“Not this high!” Lance shrieked and then closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “I knew we should have walked you home.”

Guilt welled up inside Keith. He’d been the one to go off on his own. Lance and Shrio had offered to leave early. He’d just been stubborn. As usual.

“Come on,” Keith interrupted what Lance had started to say to Shiro. “You two have work this morning,” he paused, bleary gaze shifting to Lance. “And don’t you have an exam this afternoon?”

“I do, but-”

“But nothing,” Keith said. “I’ll be fine. Just leave me a bowl of ice chips.”

Lance hesitated, but, judging by how light it was in their bedroom, he was probably borderline late for work as it was. “Fine,” he replied. “But I’ll come check on you before my test, okay?”

Keith closed his eyes and nodded, barely registering the soft press of surprisingly cool lips on his damp forehead.

“And I’ll pick up some takeout on the way home tonight,” Shiro promised, smoothing Keith’s hair. “You just rest. There’re cans of soup in the cabinet if you feel up to it.”

“Yes, yes. I’m not a baby,” Keith said, vaguely waving his hand in Shiro’s direction. “Now get out before you’re both late.”

They did finally leave, but only after Lance made sure Keith took some medicine.

Hours passed with Keith drifting in and out of consciousness. Until, finally, his fever broke. He felt gross, his entire body drenched in sweat. And once he untangled himself from his mess of blankets - thank you, Lance - he threw his legs over the edge of the mattress, giving a pleased hum as the cool air hit his heated flesh.

Let it be known that Keith had run his fair share of marathons. Sure, he used to be a sprinter, but long distances weren’t uncommon for him. However... The walk from the bed to their ensuite bathroom was the most difficult thing he’d ever attempted.

He stumbled twice, his entire body aching from the fever. But he did manage to reach his goal, tipping forward and letting his cheek press against the almost chilly tile flooring.

A shower seemed to be too tall an order, so he settled for a cool bath. He turned the tap and waited for the tub to fill, weakly wrestling out of his damp clothing. And if the bathmat hadn’t been bunched uncomfortably under his naked form, he would have laid there all day.

Still, with the remainder of his strength, Keith pulled himself up and plopped into the tub with a splash. Water sloshed over the edge, but he’d clean it up later. Besides, it wasn’t much, the tub was still filling, after all.

The sound of rushing water was soothing and Keith let his eyelids flutter shut. He’d turn off the faucet in a minute.

Keith awoke to the sound of someone shouting his name. There were hands on his shoulders as a blurry face slowly came into focus. “...Lance?”

“What were you thinking?!” he demanded, his expression a mix between anger and fear. It took Keith a moment to realize that Lance was in the tub with him, still wearing all of his clothes, down to his shoes. “Damn...I thought-”

“Hey, I’m okay,” Keith reassured him.

“Okay?” Lance repeated, pulling back. “I come home to find you unconscious in the tub with half of the bathroom flooded and all you have to say is that you’re okay?!”

Oh. He must have forgotten to turn off of the faucet. “My bad.”

Lance opened his mouth and then shut it, giving him the most incredulous of looks. “Your bad...” He shook his head. “All right, well, I shut off the water. Let’s get you out and dry and then I’ll mop up this mess.” He ran a wet hand through his hair and it was then that Keith noticed how badly Lance was shaking.

“Hey,” he said, catching his attention. “I’m sorry I scared you.” He meant it. He’d intended to take a quick bath, just to wash off the sweat. He definitely hadn’t planned on losing their security deposit. He reached a hand up to cup Lance’s cheek. “I’m really sorry.”

Lance’s face softened. “Well, it's not like you did it on purpose. So, no biggie.” He smiled then, all warm and pleasant, looking beautiful despite being so soggy. Lance really was gorgeous. And...Keith suddenly remembered that he was naked.

“Could you get me a towel?” he asked and Lance chuckled, easing himself out of the tub and removing his own sopping wet clothing before grabbing two fluffy towels from the linen closet. He helped Keith up and then wrapped one around him.

“Now, get onto the bed and don’t move a muscle,” he ordered. “I’ll get you into your pajamas when I’m done cleaning up in here.”

“Yes, Mom,” Keith said, rolling his eyes, though it sort of lost its effect when he nearly fell over. He did catch himself, though.

But Lance just rolled with it. “Don’t speak to your mother that way,” he said, with a teasing little smirk. “Just wait until your father gets home.” He stuck his tongue out and Keith mirrored him before stepping back into the bedroom and staggering over to the bed.

He flopped onto the mattress and sighed, the water droplets on his back rapidly cooling his still warm skin. He could hear Lance singing to himself as he threw a few more towels onto the floor, soaking up the mess Keith had made. He was so lucky to have him. Both his boyfriends, actually. They were so good to him...

Keith drifted off to the sound of his boyfriend’s dulcet tones and, when he woke up again later, clothed in a fresh pair of pajamas, and his nostrils filling with the delicious aroma of Chinese takeout, he understood just how lucky he was.

Chapter Text

Unlike their almost constant flirting and playful banter, kisses were not something Lance and his boyfriends typically exchanged while at the gym.

Sure, there was a peck here or there, but their public displays of affection were limited to hugs, holding hands, and the occasional teasing grope - if they were alone.

But when the need arose, that particular unspoken rule of limitation could be ignored, allowing a new system to be put into place.

And Lance was thankful for that because, after having grit his teeth and finished the last rep of his set, he welcomed those warm lips against his.

“Mmm...good job, babe,” Keith spoke into his mouth. Then he pulled back just a bit. And if Lance had any strength left in his body, he would have followed after him. But he remained, his head resting against the back of the seat on the butterfly machine, and his fingers still loosely gripping its handles, his arms like soggy noodles. “Think he can handle another set, Shiro?” Keith asked and Lance opened his eyes, not even realizing he’d shut them.

“I don’t know,” their other boyfriend mused, rubbing his chin before ducking down and meeting Lance’s half-lidded gaze. “How are you feeling?”

Lance whined in the back of his throat. He wanted to keep going. Especially because he knew what his reward would be. They’d promised one kiss after every set of five and, if he made it to ten sets, they were unlimited.

“Maybe we should let him rest,” Keith smirked, knowing Lance had just finished his ninth. Victory was so close, Lance could almost taste it. “He looks done.”

“Not done.” Lance shook his head. Only five more reps. He could do this. The weight was his usual, the one Shiro had agreed he was ready to move up to a few weeks earlier. “Gonna finish this,” he swore.

Suddenly, both his boyfriends’ expressions became serious. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself,” Shiro said and Keith nodded.

“I won’t.” Lance took a deep breath. He could handle it. He was tired, but not sore yet. Just five more. “And then, I’m going to kiss you both silly,” he promised with a smirk and both Shiro and Keith chuckled.

Keith leaned forward, placing his hands over Lance’s on the handles, giving his fingers a little squeeze. “Big talk,” he whispered, lips almost touching his. “But can you back it up?”

“Watch me.” Lance grinned and waited for Keith to get out of the way before beginning his tenth and final set. His arms were screaming at him and his chest ached, but he was almost there.

“Two more,” Shiro said, stepping closer. “You got it, baby.”

Lance growled, baring his teeth as he completed his last rep. Then he dropped his arms, letting his head loll to the side as he panted for breath. “Done.”

Gentle, calloused fingers traced his jaw before lifting his chin, tilting his head back up. Then there was the press of warm, dry lips against his. He let his mouth fall open as Keith deepened the kiss, not the least bit bothered by the sweat that dripped down his face and between their lips, the taste salty on his tongue.

Keith pulled back and Lance whimpered, immediately missing the feeling of the other’s mouth on his, but Shiro was quick to replace him, his own lips, slightly chapped, brushing against Lance’s gently before he, too, delved into his mouth.

Lance moaned around Shiro’s tongue, knowing in the back of his mind that this was probably pushing it. The gym was nearly empty, but not completely deserted, and at any moment someone might decide that now was the perfect time to do some body sculpting.

When Shiro broke the kiss, Lance was a puddle on the seat, his eyes clouded and his mouth open. He lifted both of his arms, amazed he still had the ability, and reached out for Keith and Shiro.

They each took hold of one of his hands, brows drawn down in a mixture of confusion and concern. “Lance?”

“I know you said ‘unlimited’, but,” he began, licking his lips and not missing the way their gazes dropped to focus on the movement. “Are those transferable?” He gave a slow, tired smile. “Cuz I’d like to cash them in at home, if you don’t mind.”

Never before had he seen his boyfriends move so quickly. Lance chuckled as Shiro grabbed him around the middle and hoisted his boneless form over his shoulder while Keith wiped down the machine and picked up their bags.

They didn’t even stop by the locker room to rinse off before they headed toward the train station.

Chapter Text

Keith was drumming his fingers on the mat, his gaze flicking over to his phone every so often. Where was Lance?

Normally, when the three finished their respective workouts, they would meet up to stretch. But here they were, Lance-less. And it wasn’t like Keith was worried or anything. He was just wondering what was taking their boyfriend so long.

“You could always text him,” Shiro suggested, catching Keith staring at his phone again.

Knowing it was too late to try and hide it, Keith answered, “I already did.”

“And?” Shiro quirked an eyebrow.

“He sent a selfie and told me he was ‘hangin’ around’,” he quoted and then scowled. It was embarrassing because, yes, Keith had messaged Lance when the other hadn’t immediately shown up after his class. And all he got in reply was that weird text and a picture of Lance in front the mirrored wall of his classroom.

“Oh, they must have come in today,” Shiro mused, rubbing his chin.

“What?” Keith’s frown deepened. “Who came?” he asked and Shiro gave him a look.

“Seriously, Keith?” He shook his head. “Lance has only been talking about it for a month now.”

Heat spread across Keith’s cheeks and to the tips of his ears. He hated feeling left out and this time it seemed like it was due to his own ignorance. If only he could remember what Lance had been yammering on about that morning...

“Well, I suppose we should go meet him in there,” Shiro said, picking up his towel and gym bag. “Since he’s probably a little tied up right now,” he added with a chuckle.

Keith followed after him, wondering just what was so funny. Who came? What was Lance doing? But he didn’t want to ask, since they were only a few steps away from the other’s classroom. He’d find out soon enough.

The door was open a crack, allowing slow, soothing music to flow out into the hallway. The same kind that Lance always played when he forced them into deep breathing exercises at home. Well, he forced Keith, anyway. Shiro usually gave up early and went along with it.

Shiro opened the door the rest of the way and stepped inside, moving just enough so Keith could slip in, as well. It was odd that he’d just come to a complete stop, but before Keith could question him, he spotted Lance and the words died in his throat.

Now he knew why Shiro had said their boyfriend was ‘tied up.’ Lance was hanging from the ceiling, his arms and legs wrapped in light blue fabric that kept him suspended in midair. He was facing away from them and hadn’t noticed they’d walked in.

Beside Keith, Shiro let out a low, almost silent whistle, his gaze following Lance’s movements as their boyfriend unwrapped his arms and tilted his entire body so he was hanging upside down, his fingertips brushing the wooden floor.

After a few beats, Lance moved again, extending one leg out and pointing his toes while he arched his back far enough to grab onto the foot of his other leg with both hands. He was doing a split, upside down, in midair.

Keith tried to swallow, but his mouth had gone dry. How on Earth was their boyfriend so damn flexible? It didn’t seem humanly possible.

Lance released his foot and let his hands dangle below him again, his legs still spread impossibly wide. Then he shifted into a straddle position, his eyes fluttering open. And, for a moment, he looked surprised. Then he simply smiled, shooting both Shiro and Keith a quick wink before he pulled himself upright.

“Enjoying the show?” he asked, looking demurely over his shoulder, now that he was right side up.

“Seems like you’re used to the sling already,” Shiro said, having been the first to snap out of his trance. “Though, I’m not surprised.”

“Since I’m such a natural?” Lance replied, batting his eyelashes before he maneuvered himself so he was sitting in the sling with his legs folded beneath him. “Well, I got certified for aerial yoga last month. I’ve just been waiting for the gym to get the hammocks in,” he added, shifting his weight and gently swaying back and forth. “Glad I didn’t get rusty. Right, Keith?” He turned toward him.

And Keith, who was still caught up on how good Lance had looked, upside down with his legs spread wide, just cleared his throat and uttered the first thing that came to mind. “Can we get one of those for the apartment?”

Lance blinked owlishly, his cheeks tinting the loveliest shade of pink, before he burst out laughing and nearly fell out of the sling. Shiro was chuckling from beside him, but Keith didn’t look his way. He was still staring at Lance, who had just wiped a stray tear from his eye, his laughter dying down. 

“Sure, babe. I’ll see what I can do.”

Chapter Text

Lance was staring. He knew that. He was fine with it. Besides, it wasn’t as if he could help himself. 

He’d finished his spinning class a little early and ducked out as soon as it ended - the perk of attending a class he didn’t teach for once - then he’d headed straight toward the weight lifting area.

Ah. There he was. Shiro, in all his glory.

He was working on his upper body this evening. He’d just finished with the butterfly machine and was heading toward the free weights.

Now, it wasn’t like Lance was spying on him or anything... He just wanted to stay out of Shiro’s line of sight so he could appreciate his boyfriend’s physique without the other getting all blushy and flustered. Though, that was also pretty cute.

Lance didn’t even feel guilty as he watched Shiro take a seat on the bench and start doing bicep curls. Oh gosh, that was a sight to behold. Lance bit his lip as a drop of sweat that had been trapped in one of Shiro’s sideburns, broke free and glided down his cheek before dripping off of his chin and splattering onto the ground.

He glanced back up, his gaze raking over Shiro’s form. The other was straining a bit, his muscles positively bulging as he continued his reps. And Lance had to swallow before he started drooling.

Of course, in Lance’s defense, tonight Shiro looked even more sinfully perfect than usual.

“What is he wearing?” Keith asked, having appeared beside Lance. His tone was probably meant to come across as accusatory, but it was just a bit too breathless for that.

“All his workout shirts were in the wash,” Lance said simply, not taking his eyes off of Shiro as the other man set the weight down and moved to the mat to begin a set of push-ups.

“So...whose shirt is he wearing, exactly?” Keith moved closer to Lance, his gaze also locked onto their boyfriend.

“Mine,” Lance answered with a little half shrug. “He didn’t think it would fit, but...here we are.”

Keith hummed in reply. Then Shiro stood back up and rolled his shoulders, causing the hem of the skin-tight, black shirt to ride up in the best way possible. “You know that’s not going to fit you after this,” Keith mused, barely taking the millisecond required to blink.

“Yeah, I know.” Lance sighed dreamily. “Totally worth it.”

Keith hummed again.

Then Shiro’s head snapped up, their boyfriend’s eyes going wide as he spotted them openly ogling him. “Lance? Keith?” He blinked. “When did you two get here?”

They exchanged glances before Lance cleared his throat and responded. “Would you believe ‘just now’?” he tried, which earned him a raised eyebrow from Shiro. “Anyway, that’s neither here nor there,” he went on, ignoring their boyfriend’s suspicion. “You were right, that shirt doesn’t fit at all.”

“Yeah,” Keith joined in and Lance caught his smirk in his periphery. “You should probably take it off.”

They got an earful for that later that night, but the adorable flush that had spread across Shiro’s face and halfway down his chest - which was revealed shortly after - had been completely worth it.

Chapter Text

Shiro had just finished the spinning class Lance had suggested. His legs felt pleasantly sore and, after leaving about two gallons worth of his DNA on the floor, he felt a lot lighter, too. There was a bounce in his step as he made his way down the hallway to thank his boyfriend for the wonderful suggestion.

When he reached the door which read: ‘Zumba, 7pm-8pm,’ he was surprised to hear music coming from the room. It was well past eight and Lance was nothing if not punctual. 

Curious, Shiro popped his head in, only to find that the class had already let out. Only Lance remained, his hips swaying to the beat. The song was familiar, something Shiro had heard on the radio plenty of times on the oldies station, though the disco number sounded a little different. It was faster paced and was overlaid with a more upbeat synth feel.

It fit the moves better, Shiro thought, as Lance traveled across the room, rolling his hips before turning on his heel and going back the other way, half-counting and half-singing along.

“You can daaaance,” he crooned. “You can ji-ive.” He punctuated the beat by popping his hip out. “Having the time of your liiife. Ooh ooh ooh...” he trailed off, pausing and furrowing his brow as he chewed on the inside of his cheek.

He was choreographing. Shiro had seen him do it plenty of times. His face would scrunch up when he came to a part he wasn’t sure about. But, then again, there was a lot to consider. He needed to keep his routines interesting, but he couldn’t add moves too difficult for his class to perform.

Finally, Lance beamed, still unaware of Shiro watching him, and walked over to his mp3 player. He scrolled back a bit to an earlier part of the song and began moving again. And this time, when he reached that part, he continued on, waving his arms and bouncing on the balls of his feet.

It was amazing how Lance’s moves could be seductive one moment and absolutely adorable the next.

Shiro smiled and realized he’d stared long enough. He made to clear his throat, but he was interrupted when Keith walked into the room, carrying two bottles of water.

“Break time,” Keith said, shooting Shiro a knowing little smirk before he handed one of the bottles to Lance.

“Thanks, babe.” He took the offered beverage and uncapped it, draining half of the bottle in one go. Then he looked over at Shiro. “You picked Shiro up on your way?” he asked.

Keith had the nerve to drag out his answer. “Something like that,” he finally replied and Lance just raised an eyebrow before giving a little shrug.

“Anyway, Shiro,” Lance began, turning toward him. “Did you like the spinning class.”

Shiro grinned. He was glad he hadn't been caught by both of his boyfriends. Though, if one were to review precedents, it was only a matter of time before the two got together and used their powers for evil. Still, he was in the clear for now. “I loved it.”

Lance’s face lit up. “That’s great! Isn’t Leo the best?” he gushed. “I’m always so sore after his classes.” He downed the rest of his water and handed the empty bottle to Keith. “Anyway, I’m just about done choreographing the dance I wanna do for Disco Night,” he said, walking over and turning the music back on. “Want a preview?”

Shiro should have said something then - he’d learn later - but he just nodded eagerly, loving the giddy little laugh it elicited from Lance.

“Okay, great!” he cheered and started the song over.

The earlier moves that Shiro had missed were entertaining to say the least. And he found himself mesmerized by Lance’s fluid movements and the way his hips rocked to the beat. But Shiro managed to tear his gaze away when he felt eyes on him. 

Keith was still giving him a look. And Shiro, knowing he’d lost before he even began, spoke first. “He’s getting quite good, isn’t he?”

"He is.” Keith nodded, flashing a little grin. “You should have seen him before you got here,” he added, voice low. “He was practicing for Kizomba night.”

Shiro quirked a brow, not quite following.

Keith’s grin widened. “Google it.”

Chapter Text

Keith found himself with a rare day off. His lecture had been cancelled and, even after calling to ask, they were overstaffed at work already and didn’t need him. And frankly, he was bored.

He wasn’t one to sit still for long. As much as he teased Lance for constantly moving around or fidgeting, Keith was just as bad, if not worse.

At first he thought about going for a run, but his trainers were still soaking wet for his impromptu dash through the rain the night before…when he was still five miles from home.

So, with nothing to do, Keith decided to try and help out around the house.

Making dinner was out of the question. Even if he still had quite a bit of time before either of his boyfriends would be home, he wasn’t allowed in the kitchen. Not because he was completely awful at cooking - he fried a mean egg - but because Lance was on dinner duty tonight. And if the large pot of black beans soaking in the sink wasn’t clue enough, the note on the fridge which read: ‘Hands off. Keith, that means you,’ made it abundantly clear.

That left only two other chores. The first was deep cleaning and detailing the bathroom. No thanks. And the other was the laundry.

He was running out of gym shorts, anyway.

The laundry room was on the first floor and they lived on the fifth, so Keith got himself a little bit of cardio running up and down the stairs - with an extra bonus rep after he realized he’d dropped a pair of Lance’s silken boxers, For Special Occasions™. And he’d never live that down.

After emptying the mountain of clothes onto their bed, Keith began to fold. It was easy enough, if not time consuming. And he found himself humming a bit as he matched pairs of socks.

The song was familiar. And he realized with a groan that it was the one Lance had been playing on repeat a few days earlier, trying to perfect his newest Zumba routine before giving up and picking a different song.

But the melody stuck with him and before Keith realized it, he wasn’t just humming, but singing the words he remembered. Or, at least, what they sounded like to him. “Hmmm…mmm…mm mm, eh ya,” he murmured, swaying his hips awkwardly as he folded a shirt.

He was no Lance. That was for sure. But he did actually likedancing - not that he’d admit it out loud.

Keith continued half-singing, “La hen te, hmm mmm, mm verla.” He cocked his hip out to the side. “This girl is like oh-”

“MY GOD~” Lance’s voice startled him. Keith froze before slowly looking over his shoulder as Lance belted the rest of the lyrics. “Mira, mira esta chica esta que quema,” he purred, drawing closer and wrapping his arms around Keith’s middle.

“Lance-”

“The baddest girl in town,” he continued, pressing his chest against Keith’s back and swiveling his hips so they both moved to the silent beat. Then he chuckled, his breath warm against Keith’s ear. “It’s stuck in your head, too?” he asked.

Keith sighed. “Maybe because someone was playing it over and over the other day,” he accused and, as a peace offering, Lance brushed his lips against Keith’s cheek before whispering an apology in his ear.

“So…” Lance drew back, eyeing the sloppily folded pile of clothes. “Laundry, huh?” He snickered. “Shiro will be so proud.”

“Not if I don’t finish before he gets home,” Keith threw out and resumed his folding, ignoring how his ears and cheeks burned.

“Hey, you were already singing and dancing,” Lance argued. “Don’t act like I interrupted anything.” He placed his hands on Keith’s waist and nuzzled the back of his neck. “It was really cute.”

“Shut up,” Keith managed, his face blazing.

“Okay, okay.” Lance released him and held his hands up in a placating manner. “I’m going to get started on dinner,” he said as he walked toward their bedroom door. “Let me know…si quieres cantar más.” He winked and blew a kiss before expertly dodging a pair of socks thrown his way.

Keith groaned. Maybe Lance wouldn’t tell Shiro about his little…performance.

Yeah, right. And maybe he’d let Keith lead his next Zumba class…

Chapter Text

Keith was awoken by the golden light of early morning filtering in through the bedroom window. He groaned, flipping onto his other side and pulling the covers over his head. The motion caused him to hiss as the crisp fabric of previously freshly laundered sheets brushed against the tender skin of his back.

He moved again, trying to get comfortable, and noticed a pleasant ache that seemed to have weaved through every last one of his muscles. He was sore. But a good sore. Like he’d worked himself extra hard at the gym the night before. Which he had. Among other things...

There was a soft, almost gentle rapping at the door, which pulled Keith from his thoughts before they could be flooded with scenes from last night.

“Keith?” It was Shiro. He sounded like he was smiling. “Are you awake?”

“No,” he moaned in response, burying himself deeper under the duvet and closing his eyes, almost feeling the delicious sensations from a few hours prior with every ache and pain.

Shiro chuckled and the bed dipped just behind Keith’s burritoed form. “Hungry?” he asked. And the moment the words passed his lips, the most delectable of aromas filled Keith’s nostrils, causing his mouth to water and his eyes to flutter open.

He turned around, peering over the comforter at his boyfriend. “I could eat,” he said and Shiro chuckled again.

“It’s all yours,” he promised, lips curved up in a sweet little grin, like he hadn’t been the cause of Keith’s current state of discomfort - and residual afterglow - Of course, he wasn’t the only one to blame.

But before Keith could question the whereabouts of their other boyfriend, he eyed the tray Shiro had brought. It was heavily laden with all his favorite breakfast foods. Or, rather, his new favorites. He usually skipped breakfast, a habit he’d developed as a child with little or nothing to eat at home. But Lance had put a stop to that, making him lavish meals every morning until Keith caved and stuck around to eat them.

And speaking of lavish, this one was no exception. In fact, it was practically a feast. French toast with powdered sugar and strawberry syrup - freshly made and still warm, he noted - sausage, bacon, two sunny-side up eggs, and a glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice with the pulp strained - Keith didn’t care for chewing his beverages like Lance and Shiro did.

“Wow,” he gaped at the spread. Then he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye, near the door. He didn’t look and managed to hide his smirk, instead turning his attention on Shiro. “Did you make all this?” he asked.

Shiro returned his knowing glance. “Actually, Lance did,” he replied, reaching forward to tuck a lock of Keith’s unruly bedhead behind his ear.

“Oh, he did?” Keith hummed. “Where is he, anyway?”

“Lance,” Shiro called over his shoulder. “He’s asking for you.”

A moment passed before Lance appeared, peeking around the door frame and looking rather sheepish. “’Morning,” he mumbled before raking his teeth over his bottom lip.

“Why are you hiding?” Keith quirked a brow. But Lance didn’t answer. Instead, the other’s gaze dropped to the floor. “What’s his deal?” he asked Shiro in a whisper.

“He feels-” he began, but Lance interrupted.

“Shiro!”

“I’m telling him!” Shiro responded almost gleefully, ignoring the other’s wide-eyed stare. “He thinks it’s his fault that we overdid it last night and he feels bad about it,” he explained.

Ah, so that was it. Well, Lance certainly had played his part. And very well, Keith might add. But they hadn’t done anything Keith didn’t want to do.

“So, is that why he made me this breakfast?” Keith questioned, his eyes on Lance. “Guilt?”

“What? No!” Lance stepped into the room, his hands on his hips. “It’s customary to serve the birthday boy breakfast in bed,” he said and then cleared his throat. “Plus, after last night, I wasn’t sure if you’d be able to walk to the table, so...” He puckered his lips, his gaze traveling the expanse of their shared bedroom before landing on Keith once more. “But, um...you’re not mad?”

Mad? How on Earth could Keith be mad at either of his boyfriends after the amazing night they’d shared? Still, he furrowed his brow, his lips drawing down at the corners. “I suppose not.”

Lance’s face fell. “You suppose?”

Keith ignored Shiro’s snicker from beside him. He never could pull one over on him. But Lance had taken the bait.

“Yes,” Keith said. “But if you’d really like my forgiveness...” he trailed off, watching Lance perk up. “You can help me eat this ridiculous amount of food you made.”

“Ridi...” Lance blinked and then frowned. Keith could no longer hide his smile. He knew the jig was up. “You’re not even mad, are you?” Lance huffed incredulously before childishly stomping his way over to their bed. “I was worried about you! You passed out, Keith! I thought we broke you. I-”

And then Keith started laughing. He couldn’t help it. A flushed and flustered Lance was rare.

“Okay. That’s it!” Lance said, taking the tray from Shiro’s hands and setting it on the nightstand. “He’s going to pay for that. Let’s get him, Shiro!” 

“No!” Keith shouted between fits of giggles as his boyfriends pounced him, unwrapping him from his blanket cocoon and tickling every inch of bare flesh they could get their fingers on. “I give! I give!” he said, panting when they finally ceased their torture.

“I hope you’ve learned your lesson,” Lance said with a pout, his arms crossed over his chest. “Teasing us like that.”

“In his defense,” Shiro spoke up. “It was only you who he was teasing.”

“Quiet, you. Or you’re next,” Lance threatened.

Keith snorted and then Lance’s attention was on him. But before their boyfriend could say another word, Keith lifted a hand up, caressing Lance’s jaw. “Hey, so it’s still technically my birthday, right?” he asked, clearly throwing the other off.

“Uh...yeah. I guess.” Lance shot Shiro a confused look. “Why?”

“Well, remember that other present you were promising last night?” Keith offered, biting his lip. “You know, right before I fell asleep?”

Lance’s cheeks flushed bright red, the color continuing all the way to his ears. “Y-You, uh...you heard that, huh?”

“Mhm.” Keith crawled toward Lance, Shiro following his lead. “So, is that still on the table?” he purred, taking a page from Lance’s book and loving the way the other’s Adam’s apple bobbled as he swallowed.

“Um...yeah. If you’re sure.” His blush spread lower, disappearing beneath the collar of his shirt - one he’d borrowed from Shiro, judging by the size - and Keith gave a slow, predatory smile.

“I’m sure.”

Chapter Text

“I still don’t know why you had to drag us in here,” Keith complained from where he was leaning against the mirrored wall, his arms folded over his chest. “Shiro knows his size.”

“I promise, it will be worth it,” Lance said. They were in the men’s fitting room at their local sporting goods store. The reason being that Shiro was suddenly very low on workout shirts. And, although Lance claimed someone had been stealing their clothes from the dyer in the laundry room, that was a complete and utter lie. He’d been the one pilfering the older man’s shirts.

It all started when Lance got an itch to see Shiro in one of his own shirts. Because, although their older boyfriend was sexy all of the time. He was even sexier when clad in a super tight, barely holding its stitches together, cotton and rayon-blend number.

And, boy, had that paid off.

But then Shiro got the bright idea to purchase more. And Lance, who still had four of the other’s shirts hidden in a shoebox under their heavy, winter quilt in the closet, didn’t know how to broach the subject of where his clothes had gone. Let alone actually return them.

He would have proposed a ‘workout clothes theft amnesty day,’ but that would mean he’d need to return Keith’s spare pair of fingerless gloves. And he wasn’t ready to give those back yet – they were great for keeping his hands from getting callouses during lifting sessions with Shiro.

So, Lance – being quick on his feet and the master of all ideas good and great – suggested that they all go to the store together and get Shiro something that hadn’t come off of the discount rack, for once.

And that was how both he and Keith ended up in the fitting room, waiting while Shiro tried on the first of many in a humongous pile of clothes Lance had handed him before shoving him into the cubicle and pulling closed the drape.

“Seriously,” Keith went on. “Just let him grab a few shirts, so we can go.”

Lance shook his head, a fond smile on his lips. “Just wait.”

A moment later, a rustling behind the curtain and the awkward clearing of a throat, caught their attention. Lance’s smile widened.

“You almost done in there, babe?” he called, shooting Keith a knowing look that the other didn’t quite understand.

“Lance, I…” Shiro paused. “I don’t think this is my size.”

“Nonsense!” Lance waved his hand in dismissal, though the other couldn’t see. “I know my own boyfriend’s size by now, I think.” Especially with the number of shirts he’d collected.

“But it’s…a little short,” came Shiro’s reply and Lance, grinning like the cat who got the canary, watched as realization dawned on Keith’s face. His other boyfriend turned toward him, his eyebrows raised.

“Why don’t you come out and we’ll see how it fits?” Lance suggested, his eyes still on Keith, noting the faint blush starting to stain the other’s cheeks. Keith had been around for the Tight Shirt Affair and had obviously figured out what was about to happen.

Metal rings clanged against the bar as Shiro pulled the curtain open and stepped out. He was still wearing his jeans – darn, he hadn’t gotten to the leggings portion of the pile yet – and the tightest, most flattering crop top.

His abs were on full display, hard and tight, and Lance swallowed before standing up and walking around their boyfriend to appraise him. “It is a bit short, huh?” he mused, his fingers slipping under the hem to give it a little tug. “What do you think, Keith?”

Keith was still rebooting, but, after a moment, he blinked. “Yeah. Short.”

“Just as I thought.” Lance sighed and steered Shiro back toward the dressing room. “This is a ‘no’,” he said firmly. “Try on the next one,” he ordered as he unceremoniously pushed Shiro back inside. “And don’t forget the leggings,” he called, returning to his seat on the upholstered bench by the mirrors. “It’s hard to imagine how it’ll look without the whole ensemble.”

Shiro mumbled something in response, too quiet to fully understand, but Lance thought it sounded like an affirmative. So, he crossed one leg over the other and turned toward Keith. “Well?” He batted his eyelashes, reveling in the fact that he’d been right about coming here.

Keith glanced at him, his face finally returning to its usual color – if not just the slightest bit flushed. “You put any tank tops in that pile?” he asked.

Lance thought for a moment and then shook his head. Most of his shirts were either low cut or midriff. “No, why-”

And then Keith darted out of the dressing room, returning a few seconds later with a pile of his own. “What? Like you don’t want to see him in these?”

A slow smile spread over Lance’s face and he gestured toward the curtain with his chin. “Carry on.”

Chapter Text

Shiro awoke to an empty bed. Which made a fair amount of sense since, after glancing over at the clock on the nightstand, he found it to be well past noon. He gave a stretch and turned onto his back, splaying his fingers on the rumpled sheets.

He didn’t often sleep late, but he’d been asked to work overnight and, well, he wasn’t as young as he used to be. He chuckled as he imaged Lance scolding him for thinking so, but it was the truth, after all.

After spending a few more seconds basking in the comfort of their king-sized bed, Shiro heard his boyfriends’ voices drifting through their shared apartment.

“Not yet!” came Lance’s, sounding rather annoyed.

“Shut it! Shiro’s still sleeping!” was Keith’s reply, just as loud.

Shiro snorted and shook his head before pulling himself out of bed. He was wearing his sweats and nothing else, but it was comfortable. Though, he did toe on his slippers, because the floor tended to be a little chilly this time of year.

He followed the voices toward the kitchen and paused when the most tantalizing of aromas filled his nostrils. He’d almost forgotten what day it was.

Shiro placed his elbows on the tall counter and peered around the half wall. Lance was busy flitting about the kitchen. He easily had about six things going at once and he danced from one pot to another, sprinkling this here and throwing in a pinch of that there. And all while wearing the apron Shiro had gotten him last year – after he and Keith had accidentally set fire to his old one.

Long story.

“No you don’t!” Lance’s shout pulled Shiro from his reverie, and he glanced up just in time to see his boyfriend hit Keith on the back of the hand with a wooden spoon. “It’s not ready yet.”

“I just wanted a taste,” Keith complained, nursing his injured hand and glaring. “How long am I supposed to wait? I’m starving.”

“I told you,” Lance began, stirring a pot of simmering soup. “Not a lick until Shiro’s up.”

Keith grumbled something under his breath that Shiro didn’t quite hear, but, whatever it was, it made Lance hip-check him away from the stove. And just before Keith retaliated, Shiro stepped into the kitchen. “No fighting, you two,” he said.

Both his boyfriends turned, scowls still on their faces. But the moment they recognized him, they smiled brightly. “’Mornin’, sleepyhead,” Lance greeted. “Want some coffee?”

“Sure,” Shiro replied as he walked around the counter and sneaked a peek into one of the pans.

“Uh-uh,” Lance tutted, shooing him away. “Don’t make me whack you, too.” He held up the spoon in warning and Shiro couldn’t help but chuckle. “Hey, I’m serious,” Lance continued.

“Take his word for it,” Keith said from his other side, rubbing the back of his injured hand. “He means business.” But then he paused, as if realizing something. “Hey, Shiro’s up now,” he said. “Doesn’t that mean we can eat?”

“Not until Hunk and Shay arrive,” Lance replied, turning on the oven light and checking on the progress of the two separate dishes inside.

“But you said-” Keith began and then growled. “You’re impossible!”

Shiro watched as his boyfriends argued, neither really getting into it. It was nice, really. The whole apartment smelled wonderful, there was more than enough food for the three of them and their guests, and it just felt…like home.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had Thanksgiving dinner. It was probably years ago. Maybe his final year of high school, before he joined the military. And Keith – Shiro glanced over, catching his boyfriend pulling a small potato out of the pan while Lance’s back was turned – well, he wasn’t sure when Keith had last sat down to a big family meal like this. He knew he’d been through a lot and he definitely didn’t want to pressure him into talking about it.

After all, Keith had come to live with him when he had nowhere else to go.

“Okay, everything’s almost ready.” Lance turned around and then put his hands on his hips, drawing his brows down. “Keith, did you take a potato?”

The meal was wonderful. Hunk had brought over a turkey, another option to go with the glazed ham Lance had prepared. Shay brought her grandmother’s famous casserole – not very aesthetically pleasing, but surprisingly delicious. And Matt and Pidge swung by toward the end with some leftover pie and custard from their family’s house.

But Shiro’s favorite part of the day was after their guests had gone and it was just the three of them again. The dishwasher had been loaded and the pans were soaking in the sink. Keith was lying with his head in Lance’s lap and one leg thrown over the arm of the couch. And Shiro was on his other side with Lance’s head resting on his shoulder and their fingers laced between them. Lance was stroking Keith’s hair with his free hand, his attention clearly not on the recording of the parade.

“I’m stuffed,” Keith moaned, breaking the silence. “Lance, you killed us.”

“Hunk killed us with that turkey,” Lance corrected. “What was that thing? Forty pounds?”

Shiro chuckled, squeezing his hand. “Whoever’s fault it was,” he began, bringing his other hand to his stomach and giving it a few pats. “I definitely ate too much.”

“Nah.” Lance waved his hand in dismissal. “It’s Thanksgiving. You’re supposed to. Besides,” he gave a little shrug, “we’ll just call it this week’s cheat day.”

Keith snorted from his spot on Lance’s lap. “We’re going to need to double our gym time tomorrow to make up for it.”

“Or…” Lance bit his lower lip. “I can think of a few other ways we can burn off the extra calories.”

Both Shiro and Keith turned toward him, but then Keith groaned and grabbed his stomach. “After I digest, okay?”

“Sure.” Lance nodded. “They say you should wait at least thirty minutes after eating before vigorous activity, right?” He waggled his eyebrows.

“Ugh, you’re the worst,” Keith laughed, his face pressed against Lance’s thigh.

“Yeah, but you love me.” Lance beamed.

“Yeah,” Shiro echoed, turning to press a kiss to his cheek. “We do.”

Chapter Text

As Keith turned his key in the lock, he went over his plan for the evening. He’d gotten off early, so he should have just enough time to go for a quick run before Shiro got home from work and the three of them headed to the gym for the evening. It’d been a while since he’d gone on a solo run and he was looking forward to it.

However, when Keith opened the door and found his path blocked by piles of boxes, all thoughts of running flew from his mind. He walked inside, side-stepping a stack labeled ‘decorations’ and placed his keys on the counter.

“That you, babe?” Lance’s voice drifted out from the veritable fort of cardboard.

“Lance?” he called, craning his neck to try and find his boyfriend among the clutter.

A second later, Lance popped up from behind a few boxes, a bright smile on his handsome face. “Hey,” he greeted. “Welcome home.”

Keith quirked an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation. But when Lance gave none, he just sighed and weaved his way around the boxes until he finally made it to his boyfriend, who was now crouched down and rooting through what looked like a tangled mess of ribbon.

Just then, something shiny and rather ornate caught his eye. There, set slightly off-center on the table was something he hadn’t expected, even given the time of year. “Lance,” he began and the other hummed in response. “Why is there a menorah on our coffee table?”

Lance didn’t look up from his work, but simply replied, “That’s not a menorah. It’s a hanukiah.”

Keith closed his eyes and counted to three before opening them again. “Okay.” He took a deep breath. “Why is there a hanukiah on our coffee table?”

“Because I haven’t found a good spot for it yet,” Lance said and then cheered when he eyed the ribbon he’d been searching for. “I was thinking by the window over there,” he threw out, vaguely gesturing with his free hand.

“All right.” Keith tread carefully. He didn’t want to upset his boyfriend, but he was confused. “And why do we have one?”

Lance set down the ribbon and turned to face him, his delicate, perfectly manicured brows raised high. “Um, because I’m Jewish?”

A thousand things flashed through Keith’s mind then. Lance eating cheeseburgers. Lance demanding they dress as Easter bunnies for that fun run. The crucifix his mother had given them as a housewarming gift when Lance first moved in. But he settled on the most recent event. “You made ham for Thanksgiving.”

Lance chuckled and stood up before walking over to him. “Okay, you got me. I’m half.” He snickered and then corrected himself. “A quarter, actually. My grandma on my dad’s side.” Lance stopped then, biting his lip as though he was trying not to laugh at his own joke. “Didn’t know your boyfriend was a certified Jewban, did you?”

Keith gave him a look, but, unsure how to respond to that, he went on, “So, that’s why you have a…hanukiah?” He glanced over at what he was pretty sure was called a menorah, but, then again, what did he know?

“Yup,” Lance answered cheerfully. “Even though my mom’s entire family is super Catholic, we grew up celebrating both traditions because she didn’t want my dad to feel like his didn’t matter.”

Keith’s lips quirked up at the corners. That was actually really thoughtful.

“Which brings me to my next point,” Lance said, placing a hand on his hip. “Shiro said he was fine with me decorating with whatever, but he didn’t really celebrate Christmas, other than gift giving,” he paused. “Which is fine! I’m not going to make you go to mass or synagogue or anything.” He chuckled. “But, since we’re a family now…” He blushed. “I wanted to know what you celebrate.”

Warmth blossomed in Keith’s chest, spreading through his body until his cheeks, too, were flushed. “Oh.” He cleared his throat, biting his lips in an effort to stop himself from smiling like an idiot. Lance was just so…Lance. And he realized, with every passing day, just how much he loved that about him.

“So,” Lance continued when Keith didn’t answer, “I’ve got candy Advent calendars in the kitchen and my grandma is sending gelt.” He smiled. “Is there a certain kind of fruit cake you just have to have or…?” He waited.

“Actually,” Keith said after a moment. “I don’t really have any traditions. That I can remember, anyway,” he added. “My mom left when I was really young and my dad always worked on Christmas, so…” He glanced up, noting that Lance’s face had fallen at his confession. He was about to apologize for ruining the mood, when Lance interrupted him.

“Well, then,” he said, brightening once more. “I’ll just have to share all of mine with the both of you.” He held his arms open wide, beckoning Keith forward. And, after a moment’s hesitation, Keith brought it on in, burying his face in Lance’s neck and letting the other hold him.

Maybe it would be nice to actually do something for the holidays this year. Thanksgiving had been wonderful, so maybe Christmas and Hannukah would be just as great. Though, judging by the amazing amount of decorations Lance had scattered around their apartment, Keith figured that ‘great’ was going to be an understatement.

“Now,” Lance began as he pulled back and brushed Keith’s bangs out of his eyes. “Help me unpack all these boxes.”

Keith stared at him in disbelief. There had to be at least twenty, if not more. “All of them?” he asked incredulously.

“All of them,” Lance confirmed. “We’ve got to hurry and get these decorations up. Hunk is coming over after dinner to help me bake all of our favorites,” he explained, grinning giddily.

Lance’s excitement was contagious and Keith found himself eager to try all of the different cookies and desserts. Though, inwardly, he groaned. He’d missed out on his run and he was certain they wouldn’t be making it to the gym any time tonight.

As if sensing his distress, Lance walked forward and enveloped him in another hug. “Don’t worry. We can do one of my Insanity videos while the oven preheats.”

Keith snorted. “Great. That’s much better.” He rolled his eyes.

“I know, right?” Lance ignored his sarcasm and went back to sorting through boxes.

A second later, the sound of keys in the lock caught Keith’s attention, followed by Shiro’s confused outburst. “What’s going on in here? Lance? Keith?”

“We’re over here!” Lance called and then lowered his voice. “Keith, why don’t you and Shiro start on the boxes by the door?”

Keith turned. Those were the largest.

Well, it seemed like they might be getting a workout, after all.

Chapter Text

Rising before the sun was not an uncommon thing for Shiro, even on a Saturday. But today he was roused from his slumber at two in the morning, woken by the sounds of frantic pacing and hushed voices. He sat up and rubbed at his eyes with one hand, blindly reaching out for his prosthetic and then deciding that he’d just grab it later.

He lumbered into the hallway, blinking as the bright light flooded his vision. “What’s the matter?” he asked, voice raspy.

“Nothing,” Keith was quick to snap, averting his gaze.

Shiro simply raised his eyebrows and turned toward Lance.

“He’s just nervous about the run,” he said, earning an irritated growl from Keith. “I found him freaking out and muttering to himself in the hallway when I got up for a glass of water.”

“I’m not freaking out!” Keith returned, clenching his hands into fists. “There’s just a lot of moving parts and I don’t want anything to go wrong.”

Ah. Shiro had almost forgotten. Today was the big day. The day of Keith’s fun run.

The gym had expressed a desire to hold one in order to attract potential new members. And Lance, being the supportive boyfriend he was, mentioned that Keith used to run track in high school and that he still got miles in now.

Keith had participated in his fair share of races. Shiro could remember how proud he looked when he’d finished his first full marathon, his face red and sweaty, but his smile amazingly bright. But that didn’t mean he was qualified to organize his own. At least, that was how Keith felt. Shiro thought he’d do a great job. And so did Lance.

“It’s just a 5k,” Lance assured him for what was probably not the first time that morning. “It’ll be fine, babe.”

“But what if-”

“Bip bip bip,” Lance cut him off. “You’ve worked your butt off to get this thing set up,” he said, reaching out and taking one of his hands in his. “And remember, I’ll be there the whole time.”

“Very reassuring…” Keith rolled his eyes.

But instead of being insulted, Lance just snorted. “Would it make you feel better if we went over there now?”

Shiro glanced back into their bedroom and at the clock on the nightstand. “Doesn’t the race start at seven?” he asked.

“Well, yeah,” Lance replied. “But the runners are going to start showing up for packet pick-up at six and the volunteers are scheduled to arrive at four-thirty, so-”

Keith interrupted Lance with a long, drawn out groan. “I can’t do this…”

“Yes, you can.” Lance stepped closer and took Keith’s arm in his. “C’mon, Mr. Negative. I’ll go finish loading the bibs and extra safety pins into the car.” He grinned. “All you have to do is squeeze that cute little butt of yours into those skimpy shorts I like so much.”

Keith made another noise, but didn’t protest as he was led into the bedroom. Though, only a moment later, Lance poked his head back out.

“Shiro, baby, you left your arm on the back of the toilet again.”

Ah, so that’s where it was.

It was quite some time later, after Shiro had gotten a few cups of coffee in him, that he found himself gaping at the flurry of movement.

Keith had mapped out the course ages ago and had already run it twice, making sure he didn’t miss chalking any turns. Then Lance sent the volunteers out, signs in hand, to place them where Keith had marked. A few returned, but most stayed out at their stations, guarding the bottles and cups at the two water stops.

The runners began showing up right on time and Lance handled them with ease, directing them to the proper volunteer – sorted by surname – to pick up their packets, shirts, and bibs.

Shiro was always amazed at how good Lance was with people. That wasn’t to say that Keith was bad, necessarily. But he was clearly better with the setup and that much showed. The starting /finish line was already up and the clock had started its countdown. Though, Keith was still speaking with the representative from the third party company, making sure that the pad would record everyone’s chip time accurately.

Not that this was a qualifying course, Shiro had heard Lance remind him.

All-in-all, his boyfriends were doing a wonderful job and Shiro was content to sip from coffee number three and watch them work.

After everyone had arrived and the owner of the gym had reminded them all, once again, that the booth just after the post-race water and banana table was fully staffed with volunteers ready to take applications for new memberships, he introduced Keith as the race organizer and handed the mic over to him.

Shiro, who had somehow been seeded into the front of the corral, smiled as Keith stepped up on the small stage, Lance right behind him, giving him an encouraging thumbs up when the owner announced, “And now our director will provide you with some final race instructions.”

Keith cleared his throat. “Um…thanks for coming.”

The crowd was silent. And then Lance, oh so politely, stepped closer and elbowed Keith in the ribs.

“Right, uh. The course is clearly marked and there are police volunteers at each major intersection, blocking traffic.” He swallowed awkwardly and went on. “There are two water stations. The first at mile marker one and the other at two and a quarter.”

Shiro was proud of him. This was the most Keith has said in front of a group of people in ages. He wasn’t the best at public speaking. That was usually left to Lance. And, when Keith was finished, he handed the microphone over to him, as if out of habit.

Lance stepped up, smiling brightly at the crowd. “Good morning, everyone!” he said and a few responded. “Can I get you all to put your hands together for Keith? He really did a wonderful job putting all this together!” He lowered the mic and applauded, the runners following suit.

Keith’s face turned a lovely shade of pink and, after noting that, Lance found Shiro in the pack and sent him a knowing little grin.

“The weather’s perfect, so let’s have a great race!” He threw an arm up and the crowd cheered.

There was a reason he lead Zumba classes. His excitement was infectious.

Shiro was so distracted by how adorable his boyfriends were acting up there, Keith trying to keep his flush down and Lance poking him playfully in the side, that he almost missed the start of the national anthem.

Shiro was a weightlifter. He enjoyed his morning and evening jogs and he often ran laps for cardio. But a racer, he was not. He did manage to snag fifteenth place in his age group, though. Only a whole ten minutes behind the leader.

He found Keith and Lance chatting to the owner and a couple fast-looking runners beside the gym’s application tent.

“Hey, you made it,” the man said, slapping Shiro on the back. “I thought for sure you were going to take this. I was pacing off of you for the first mile.” He grinned.

“Oh, yeah.” Shiro rubbed the back of his neck. “I sort of shot out of the gate.”

“A rookie mistake and you hate to see it,” Lance teased, but then walked over and gave Shiro a hug, not seeming to care that he was dripping with sweat.

“Well, that course was brilliant,” the other runner said to Keith. “I hope you plan on organizing another next year.”

“He sure does!” the gym owner and Lance said at the same time, ignoring Keith’s pleading look.

But when the awards had been given out and the cleanup was almost done, Shiro could see how proud Keith was. He was smiling, thanking the timeclock folks again before helping Lance and a few volunteers put the extra bananas back in boxes to be donated.

And he knew by the way Keith laughed – laughed – that he would definitely be up for doing this again next year.

Well, with a little encouragement from Shiro and Lance, of course.

Chapter Text

Between the three of them, Lance was always the most obvious when it came to ogling. Not that Keith was admitting to doing so at the moment. It was just that, Lance was an open book and completely obvious when it came to checking his boyfriends out.

Keith liked to think he was more subtle.

For example, everyone and their mother knew exactly what features of his lovers Lance appreciated the most. Though, honestly, he was so vocal and varied, Keith began to wonder if he didn’t find everything on them attractive – which caused a little bubble of flattered happiness to rise up in his chest when Lance complimented him.

Again, something he kept to himself.

But Keith’s favorites? Those were harder to pin down. He’d admired Shiro for a long time before they officially got together. It had started out as envy back in the day. But now, it was commending appreciation.

For Lance, Keith loved his long legs, loud mouth, and energetic and caring personality. Though, he’d be damned if he admitted to the second. Especially now, considering he’d been once again dragged into another one of his boyfriend’s classes. At least this time it wasn’t Zumba. Lance tended to be rather quiet when he led yoga practices.

But the lack of loud, boisterous dance music and Lance’s booming encouragements allowed Keith’s mind – and eyes – to wander.

They were doing a rather easy position – pose, he reminded himself, since Lance corrected him every time. It was called the warrior pose and it was one of the few names Keith remembered. It relied on good balance, but it didn’t stretch things too far and, though he’d never say it aloud, Lance was right about Keith being a little less flexible than him.

Or maybe a lot less.

Shiro was just in front of Keith and slightly to the side, breathing in time with Lance and extending his arms out. At first, he’d been wary about leaving his prosthetic on in class, since he found some of the poses more difficult to perfect. But Lance had worked with him and even gone as far as to give him a private lesson – which Keith’d had the pleasure of walking in on – and now he wore it proudly.

Keith loved Shiro’s arms. Both of them. That had been a big hurdle for Shiro when the three of them first got together. He may not have been as openly insecure as Lance about his body, but it was easy enough to pick up on. And both Keith and Lance had made sure to show their appreciation for every last inch of him from then on.

As it was, Keith was more of an arm guy. Well, arms, shoulders, upper back. And Shiro was a perfect specimen to observe.

Oh, great. Now he sounded like Lance.

But it was true. In fact, Keith couldn’t take his eyes off of Shiro’s bicep. The way it tensed holding his position. The little droplet of sweat that gathered in the crook of his elbow.

It was rare that Shiro would utilize the free weight station, but when he did, Keith adored watching him do curls, marveling at his strength and concentration. But the butterfly machine was Keith’s favorite. Shiro always looked unbelievably hot working with that.

If he closed his eyes, Keith could picture Shiro on it now. Muscles bulging, chest damp with sweat, and his face reddened from the exertion.

It was a good look, really.

“Keith.” A voice broke him from his reverie. He blinked and looked up to see the rest of the class staring at him, including Shiro, and Lance, who’d been the one to address him. “As much as I appreciate your dedication to virabhadrasana,” he paused to snicker. “We moved on to the floor poses some time ago.”

Keith’s face flushed hot to his ears and he ducked his head.

“Now.” Lance clapped his hands together, getting the rest of the class’s attention. “Who’s ready to work that core?” Several yogis answered, but Keith didn’t hear them. He was too busy being mortified.

Why did this always seem to happen in Lance’s classes?

“Drifted off, huh?” Shiro asked and Keith shot him a half-hearted glare. “He does look really good up there, right?” He gestured toward the front with his chin just as Lance reached up toward and ceiling and then bent himself in half, his butt jutting out cutely behind as he gripped the back of his ankles.

Well, Shiro wasn’t wrong.

Yeah, Keith was an arm guy. With one exception.

Chapter Text

For once, Lance was glad Thursdays were his heavy days. He had his part time job in the morning, coursework all day, and then two classes to lead in the evening.

Now, normally, he dreaded those long hours because it meant less time with his boyfriends, whom he loved dearly.

However, as of late…

Keith was driving him insane!

It’s not like it was completely his fault. After all, it wasn’t every day you got to meet your birth mother for the first time since you were in diapers. But the way Keith was running around, trying to tidy up and clean and make the place look suitable for her visit, well, it was getting on Lance’s nerves.

He loved Keith. Shiro, too. They were so good to Lance and they meant the world to him. But if Keith pulled out every one of their dishes again and demanded they all be washed – for a third time – Lance was going to stick him in a wormhole.

He did take into account the fact that she was supposed to show up some time this week – no specific date or time – which was definitely exacerbating the situation. Lance was pretty sure he was using that word right.

So, getting out of the apartment for a solid sixteen hours or so sounded really good.

Of course, after being away from him all day and having one Zumba class-worth of endorphins running through his system, Lance realized that he couldn’t blame Keith. Lance had grown up with his family. He couldn’t imagine what it was like to not know your mother. And that made him feel a little guilty for ditching him. And leaving poor Shiro to fend for himself.

So, Lance decided that, as soon as his last class was over, he’d quickly shower and head straight home. Well, maybe not straight home. He should probably pick something up on the way. He doubted that Keith had eaten anything all day – unless Shiro had forced him.

He was lost in thought when Lance nearly ran into a tall woman walking past the welcome desk. “Excuse me,” he said and then blinked when he looked up at her. She was beautiful! He put on his coolest smile and leaned an elbow on the counter. “You new around here?” he asked, voice dipping a little lower.

Before anyone jumped to conclusions, Lance would never, ever cheat on his boyfriends. But part of his job as an instructor at the gym was to get more clients to sign on. And one way to do that was by advertising what they had to offer.

“Only just arrived tonight,” she replied. “My hotel is down the street and I thought I’d give this place a look.”

Ah. They sometimes got salary men and women in town on business or for a conference. Still, he could sell her a few classes while she was in the area.

“You look like someone who enjoys dancing, am I right?” he asked, running a hand through his still slightly damp bangs. “Ever taken a stab at Zumba?”

She quirked a brow and crossed her arms over her chest. “Can’t say that I have.”

“Oh!” Lance’s eyes lit up. “Then you’ve got to try my class. I’ve actually got one starting in about fifteen minutes,” he paused, gesturing toward the room down the hall. “If you’re interested.”

“Tempting,” she chuckled. “But I’m afraid I’m finished for the evening.”

It was then that Lance noticed the longer strands of hair under her short cut sticking to the nape of her neck. What an unusual hairstyle.

She cocked her head to the side and the motion looked so familiar that Lance was momentarily dazed. “And I’ve got somewhere to be.”

“Well,” Lance let the rejection roll off him like water off a duck’s back. “Maybe next time?” He reached for his pocket, but remembered he was wearing leggings. “I don’t have any cards on me, but I’m sure you’ll remember this face, right?”

She snorted and then smirked and Lance couldn’t help but feel a weird sense of déjà vu. “I’m sure I will, um…?”

“Lance,” he finished for her, holding out his hand.

She took it and gave it a curt shake. “Lia,” she replied. “Well, it was a pleasure to meet you, Lance.” And again, something about her seemed so familiar…

“Believe me.” He flashed another toothy grin and then winked. “The pleasure’s all mine.”

She laughed again and shook her head as she left. But Lance was used to that kind of response. Especially from slightly older women. They were flattered by his business-flirting – the official name, by the way – and they always came back for his class.

Heck, he’d recruited at least two-thirds of the female gym members over the age of thirty.

It was a gift, really.

But he didn’t have time to congratulate himself. He had a class to teach.

After he was finished and saw the last of his regulars out the door, Lance jogged over to the showers. He’d definitely spent enough time out of the apartment and, in an attempt at a peaceful offering – goodness knows what pains Shiro had suffered today. Keith, too – Lance continued with his original plan of picking up some takeout on the way.

Nothing soothed the savage beast like greasy lo mein and potstickers.

But just as he stepped out of the restaurant, the bell over the door jingling and the delicious aroma of their dinner filling his nostrils, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He’d almost forgotten that he’d left it on vibrate.

There were three messages from Shiro. He quickly swiped to unlock his phone and read them.

Looks like Keith’s mom is in town.

She’s heading over around eight.

She’s here.

Lance checked the time. It was just a little after eight. He hated that he wasn’t there for Keith to support him. But he wasn’t too far away. He could make it to the apartment in ten minutes, if he ran.

And so, seven and a half minutes later – a new personal record – Lance was wiping the sweat from his brow and attempting to get his breathing under control as he stood outside their apartment door, the Chinese food still in hand.

Once he felt he was presentable enough – first impressions were everything, after all – he took out his keys and unlocked the door.

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he walked inside. Maybe Keith and his mom sharing an emotional moment, hugging and crying for their lost time together. Or maybe Shiro holding Keith back as he shouted at her for leaving him all those years ago.

No, wait. That was definitely too dramatic. And Keith was a gentleman – when it mattered – and had been nervously and anxiously awaiting meeting his mom. He wouldn’t explode on her.

Right?

So, when Lance entered the living room and saw Keith and Shiro on the couch, the latter with his hand on the small of Keith’s back for emotional support, he was relieved. Though he did note the way Shiro had to put his other hand on Keith’s knee to keep it from bouncing so fast and high that it surely would have hit him in the face.

Then Lance looked over to where Keith’s mother sat, across from them in the recliner, and he froze.

Wow. She looked really familiar. Those dark eyes and hair in an unusual style. Everything about her rang a bell, but he couldn’t quite place where he knew her from.

As if sensing his gaze, she turned to face him, furrowing her brow and then blinking in surprise before smiling. “It’s nice to see you again, Lance.”

He dropped the takeout bag, his eyes going wide.

Both his boyfriends whipped their heads toward him. Shiro looked surprised, but Keith’s expression was impossible to read. And Lance knew he had to clear things up and fast. Keith was jealous under normal circumstances. But keyed up, literally-just-met-his-mother Keith might actually kill him.

“Lance, how do you-”

“Babe, wait.” He held his hands up in defense. “I can explain!”

Chapter Text

Shiro was used to Lance’s business-flirting. Even Keith, who tended to suffer from the green-eyed monster on occasion, had grown accustomed to their boyfriend’s – admittedly successful – tactic for recruiting new gym members.

So, they were completely unfazed when they’d see him batting his eyelashes at the young girls in his yoga class or playfully winking at the middle-aged women who ranted and raved about his flawless Zumba skills.

It was second nature. And both Shiro and Keith found it adorable. Just one more thing they loved about Lance.

However, tonight was an exception.

Lance was late and, although it wasn’t the first time he’d stayed after class, he’d somehow been held back long enough to miss the entirety of their cooldown and stretch.

“What’s taking him so long?” Keith muttered, brows drawn down and a pout on his lips. As much as Keith pretended he didn’t, Shiro knew he enjoyed finishing their trip to the gym with Lance. Especially when they were exercising in different areas the whole time.

“Maybe he’s working on a new routine?” he offered, figuring that was the case. “Or talking to one of his regulars?” Which wasn’t uncommon.

“Well, his ass is late.” Keith crossed his arms over his chest. “If he doesn’t hurry up, we’re leaving without him.”

Shiro knew Keith didn’t mean it, considering the way the younger man kept glancing to the side, as if hoping Lance would appear at any moment.

“Why don’t we go and get him?” Shiro suggested, standing up and holding his hand out for Keith.

“Fine,” Keith replied with a roll of his eyes, but took the offered hand and stood up, slinging his towel around his neck.

It was a short walk from the weight area to Lance’s Zumba classroom. When they arrived, the door was open, but there was no music drifting out into the hallway. Guess that answered that question.

“Regular it is,” Shiro chuckled, but Keith wasn’t nearly as amused.

“Well, let’s get him to say goodnight to the lady so we can go home.” He grabbed a hold of Shiro’s arm and half-dragged him into the room. Clearly, someone was cranky. Maybe Shiro would offer Keith a nice massage when they got home. Or Lance could give him one of those stress-relieving bath bombs he’d been practically begging Keith to try for months.

But all thoughts of plans for the evening fled from his mind when Shiro saw just who Lance was talking to.

It wasn’t one of his regulars. In fact, it wasn’t anyone Shiro had seen at the gym before. He was tall, with long, platinum hair and an angular face. He looked more like a model stepping off set than someone who’d just finished a Zumba class. Especially with how hard Lance pushed them with his choreography.

But what bugged Shiro was how close the man was standing to his boyfriend. He was leaning down, as if making up for their difference in height, and laughing at something Lance had just said, throwing his head back and causing his flawless hair to sweep from side to side.

However, Shiro snapped out of his jealous fog when he spotted Keith stomping forward, his hands clenched into fists. He reached out and grabbed his shoulder, but released him immediately when Keith whipped around and shot him a fiery glare.

Okay. Lance was on his own.

“You’re late,” Keith spat as he approached them, finally getting their attention.

“Oh. Hey, babe,” Lance greeted with a smile before wiping some of the remaining sweat from his brow. “You guys done stretching already?”

“Yeah, for like fifteen minutes,” Keith exaggerated. “I see you were distracted.” He folded his arms over his chest and looked to the taller man with the smooth skin and perfectly straight teeth, visible because he was flashing Keith a brilliant grin.

“Another fitness instructor?” he asked, his voice smooth and accented.

“Who, Keith?” Lance snorted. “Nah, he’s run a few events, but he’s just your basic gym rat.”

Keith seethed and Shiro took the opportunity to step up and introduce himself. “Takashi Shirogane,” he said, holding his hand out. “I’m one of the personal trainers.”

“A pleasure,” the man said, shaking Shiro’s hand. “Lotor Sincline.”

“You in town on business?” Keith asked, eyes still narrowed, but focused on just how close Lotor was standing to Lance.

“Just moved here, actually,” he replied. “My office isn’t too far from here and one of my assistants told me about this place.” He smiled and turned toward Lance. “And the best Zumba instructor in the city.” He gently elbowed Lance in the ribs and the other retaliated by swatting playfully at his chest.

“Flatterer.” Lance giggled and Shiro cleared his throat, the beginnings of a headache building between his eyes. Completely oblivious, Lance continued. “He’s just saying that because he’s never taken a class before.”

“Oh, I’ve participated in my fair share of physical activity,” Lotor began, leaning even closer to Lance. “But none has ever been so…satisfying.”

“Are you two done?” Keith interrupted. “I want to go home.”

Lotor turned toward him, raising a delicate brow. “Do you three commute together?”

“Live together,” Keith corrected with a frown.

A slow smile spread on Lotor’s lips before he drew closer to Lance, speaking in a stage whisper. “You were right.”

“I told you so,” Lance replied with a snort.

“Right about what?” Keith growled and Shiro, despite his best efforts, was starting to get annoyed as well. Lotor was being far too familiar with their boyfriend. He trusted Lance more than anything. They both did. But this was getting…bothersome.

“Well, I should head to the showers,” Lotor said, interrupting Shiro’s thoughts. “Thanks again for the class, Lance.” He placed a hand on his shoulder, his thumb just brushing Lance’s neck. “I’m going to be feeling that in my ass for days.” And then he was gone, breezing by Shiro and Keith and heading out the door.

They watched him go before turning wide, incredulous eyes on Lance.

“What?” he asked innocently. “Tonight was squat-heavy.”

“Lance…” Keith threatened.

“Oh, stop it, you big baby.” Lance rolled his eyes. “I just sold him the Premium Gold Package with automatic monthly payments and renewals.” He beamed. “Now, to celebrate what will surely be a nice little bonus on my next paycheck – thank you, commissions,” he paused, walking forward and looping his arms in theirs. “Let’s go out tonight.” He began leading them back toward the hallway. “I’m feeling sushi.”

“Lance, he was-” Keith started, but Lance cut him off.

“All over me, I know.” He gently butted Keith’s temple with his forehead. “But that last bit was just to tease you,” he promised. “I told him how jealous my boyfriends can get.”

Shiro stopped in his tracks, inadvertently yanking Lance and Keith back with him. Now he knew what Lotor meant when he’d said Lance had been right. They’d fallen for it. Completely.

“You think you’re pretty clever, don’t you?” Shiro asked, trying to keep from cracking a smile. Lance had gotten them good.

“Yup,” Lance chirped. “But you can punish me later.” He danced out of their hold and skipped down the hall. “First a shower and sushi.” He stopped, twirling around and bringing a finger to his lips. “Think Lotor is still in there?”

“You’re pushing it…” Keith ground out and then sprinted toward him. Lance squeaked, but let out a victorious cheer as he dodged Keith’s grasp and took off toward the showers, the other following in hot pursuit.

Shiro sighed and shook his head, but jogged after them.

The sushi sounded pretty good, at least.

Chapter Text

Keith had just finished up his ‘therapy session’ with his favorite punching bag and was heading over to the free weight area to catch up with his boyfriends. However, as he turned the corner, he stopped mid-forehead-wipe, his towel still in his hand.

There, in the middle of the pads, was Lance and Shiro, the latter holding a shallow squat while the former, his legs wrapped tightly around Shiro’s waist, was attempting to do an ab crunch. At least, that’s what it looked like.

“What are you doing?” Keith asked, blinking in confusion.

Both his boyfriends turned his way, Shiro looking taken by surprise and Lance flashing him a bright smile. “Hey, babe,” he greeted and them resumed trying to pull himself up, his fingers laced behind his head. But his efforts proved fruitless.

“Uh…” Keith circled around them, quirking a brow. “Care to explain?”

“Lance saw a video online,” Shiro began, his ears still bright red from the embarrassment of getting caught. “And he, um, wanted to try some of the positions.”

“Ah.” Keith nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. “And this was some kind of sex tape?”

At that, Shiro nearly dropped Lance onto the floor, but caught him at the last second. “No!” he shouted and then lowered his voice in case anyone was in earshot.

Lance snorted and began wriggling in his grasp, so Shiro let him down. “It wasn’t a sex tape,” he mocked, barely containing a snicker. “It was a bunch of really cool couples’ workouts,” he explained.

“Couples’ workouts,” Keith echoed, a little curious. “And…whatever that was you were just doing…was one of them?”

“Yup,” Lance answered with a grin, placing his hands on his hips. “Wanna try it?”

“Not really,” he replied coolly. “That looked…awkward.”

“Well, I think that was because we had the positioning wrong,” Lance said before rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Maybe I should have wrapped my legs lower around Shiro’s hips,” he mused. “Then I could pull myself up and kiss him properly.”

Keith bit back a laugh. Of course that was the kind of couples’ workouts Lance had discovered. Who kissed while working out?

Well, they did. But that was used as positive reinforcement during Lance’s strength training. And the kisses came after the reps, as a reward.

“Good luck with that,” Keith offered and then walked over to where they usually stretched. He had just gotten onto the floor when Lance plopped down beside him, his legs folded neatly in his usual starting yoga position.

“You don’t want to try any of them?” he asked, biting his lower lip and nudging Keith in the arm with his elbow.

“Not particularly,” he said and brought one foot in, extending his other leg before leaning over it and reaching for his toes.

“C’mon, Keith.” He could tell Lance was pouting. “There’s the double-decker plank-looking one, and the one you can do on the stairs. Ooh! And there’s one where I hit you in the abs with a medicine ball!”

Keith paused, his nose brushing his knee, before he turned his head to face Lance. “What?”

“I don’t know.” Lance shrugged. “But it was one of the examples in the video.”

With a sigh, Keith resumed stretching. “And did Shiro say you could bruise his abs?”

“Well…no,” Lance replied. “But I figured you’d be down.”

“You figured wrong,” Keith said and then switched legs. “Why are you so interested in those workouts anyway?” he questioned, folding himself over his other leg. “I mean, we exercise together all the time.”

“Yeah, but it’s not the same!” Lance whined. “Tell him, Shiro,” he called over his shoulder.

There was a moment of hesitation and then, “They are…different.”

“See? Shiro agrees with me.” Lance puffed out his chest.

“That’s not what I heard,” Keith muttered under his breath, though he was sure he heard him. Though, if he had, he didn’t say anything.

This, of course, was not unusual. Lance typically got excited about the next big thing. That was why he was certified in every variation of Zumba and practiced most types of yoga. He was dedicated and loved a challenge. It was adorable, really. And Keith couldn’t say he didn’t find even this new obsession cute.

So, before Lance could speak another word, Keith cut in. “One thing,” he said, sitting back and holding up a single finger. “We can try one thing and then you drop it. Deal?”

Lance, who had brightened considerably, deflated at the stipulation.

“Just one?” He stuck out his lower lip. “But Shiro let me try two.”

Keith peered around Lance and spotted a blushing Shiro, who simply nodded, his hands coming up to cover his burning face.

“Fine,” Keith conceded. “Two.”

“Yay!” Lance cheered, moving closer and wrapping his arms around one of Keith’s. “You won’t regret this, I promise!”

Oh, Keith figured he just might. But if it made his boyfriend happy, well…he supposed it was worth it.

“Oh,” Lance added with a thousand-watt smile, “Do you mind if Shiro records us doing them so I can upload it to the gym’s website?”

Scratch that. Keith was positive he was going to regret this.

Chapter Text

Shiro had never seen Lance nervous before a class. Anxious? Excited? Sure. But never nervous. Of course, this was a little different, as Lance’s classes didn’t typically involve a camera and crew watching his every move.

He’d been invited by the popular exercise vlogger Allura, who worked under the Altea Media and Technology Company, after she’d attended one of his brand new Zumbalates classes. Lance was a big fan of her videos and, ever since getting the offer, he’d been playing their YouTube channel nonstop, much to Keith’s chagrin.

Though, Shiro was sure Keith preferred that over running through Lance’s routine over and over.

“Relax,” said chagrinned boyfriend sighed for the fifteenth time since they’d arrived at the studio.

Lance was pacing in a tight circle, taking turns wringing his hands and smoothing them through his hair.

“You’re starting to make Shiro nervous,” Keith joked at the end, flashing a smile, probably in an attempt to get Lance to stand still at the very least. Which, thankfully, he did.

“I’m just-” He groaned, biting his lower lip. “This is huge!”

“I know,” Shiro finally spoke, moving to place a hand on Lance’s shoulder. “But Baby, you lead these classes all the time.” He lifted his hand and brushed his thumb against Lance’s cheek to sooth him. “You’re going to do a great job.”

“Yeah,” Keith chimed in. “Just pretend the camera isn’t there.”

Lance reared back and ran his hands down his face with another groan.

Shiro sent Keith a look and the other shrugged. “What?”

“Lance,” Shiro turned his attention back on his other boyfriend, “You’ll be fine.”

“But what if I’m not?” Lance peeked between his fingers. “What if I mess up and Allura hates me and the video doesn’t get any hits-” He paused, lowering his hands, his eyes going wide. “Or what if it’s so bad, it goes viral?”

“Baby-” Shiro began, but Keith was faster, grabbing Lance by the shoulders.

“You’ll be fine,” he stressed. “You’re the best instructor at the gym and the camera loves you-” clearly a phrase from Lance’s vernacular “-and those leggings make your ass look so good, you’re lucky Shiro and I don’t jump you right now.”

Lance blinked, his cheeks tinting pink. Then a smile broke out on his face.

“You really think so?” He ducked his head sheepishly when both Keith and Shiro nodded. “Okay, then.” He slapped his cheeks, taking a deep breath. “Let’s do this.”

“Oh, Lance,” Allura called, walking over toward them. “Are you ready?”

“Born ready,” he said and she chuckled.

“Very good.” She checked her watch. It was nearly time for their live feed to begin. “Would you like to do a quick run through before we get started?”

“Sure,” Lance replied and turned toward his boyfriends. “Wish me luck.”

“You don’t need it,” Shiro assured him, leaning in and giving him a peck on the cheek. Keith did the same and then Lance was off, happily chatting with Allura as she led him to the set.

“You handled that pretty well,” Shiro mused, side-eying Keith.

“Shut up,” he snorted, but he was smiling.

However, before Shiro could tease him further, Lance came running back over, a panicked expression on his face.

“What’s-”

“The other girl got hurt,” he interrupted, his brows knit. “The girl who was supposed to do the modified version of the routine,” he explained. “She was warming up while Allura and I were marking and-” he cut himself off with a moan. “What if we can’t do it now? We’ll be lopsided.”

“It’ll be all right, Lance.” Allura caught up to him. “We can just change the blocking and do it side by side.” She checked her watch again. “It’s a shame we won’t have the modified option for beginners, but it’s not the end of the world.”

Lance moaned again. “It won’t be the same without Romelle…”

Shiro knew full well that Lance could do this without anyone behind or beside him. But after practicing it one way for so long, it would be difficult to perform it live another.

“If only there was someone else who knew your routine…” Allura tapped her chin, glancing at her watch once again. “And one who could get here in the next ten minutes.”

“No,” Lance lamented. “The only other person who-” he paused, lifting his head and looking at Keith.

“Oh, no.” Keith took a step back.

“But you were home with me all week,” Lance said, a smile brightening his face. “I even made you run through it with me.”

“Against my will!” Keith argued. “Besides, I’m not even in workout clothes.”

“We might have something in the dressing room that could work.” Allura pursed her lips. “Yes, I’ve got the perfect thing.”

“We’re saved!” Lance cheered. “Keith, you’re the best. I owe you one.”

“Wait, I didn’t say I’d-”

“Let’s get you changed,” Allura said. “The stream starts in seven.”

“Shiro…” Keith whined pathetically over his shoulder as both Lance and Allura dragged him off. But he didn’t dig in his heels. In fact, he didn’t put up much of a fight at all. Especially after he was dressed and Lance thanked him again, kissing him full on the lips.

And even though he looked a little stiff on camera, Keith remembered Lance’s entire routine, following along behind him and making sure to do the Pilates moves with modifications for their viewers just starting out.

“Now, remember,” Lance spoke to their audience. “Allura is doing the advanced movements,” he said, looking at her over his shoulder. “And Keith’s are modified. Looking great back there, Keith!” he called.

“Feeling great,” Keith replied with a smile.

The workout itself was only about thirty minutes – as advertised – and once they were done, Allura and Lance stepped closer to the camera.

“I’d like to thank Lance once again for showing us his Zumbalate’s routine.” She gestured toward him. “If you’re in the area and would like to take one of his classes, click on the link below to register.”

“Our gym would love to have you,” he added with a wink.

Allura plugged their sponsor and a few other channels before they signed off. “Excellent work, Lance,” she praised him. “And thank you for assisting us at the last minute, Keith.”

“No problem,” he said. “It’s not the first time Lance has roped me into one of his workouts.”

“Hey!” Lance blurted, feigning offense.

Shiro chuckled and made his way over. “Well, I thought you both looked fabulous.”

“Aww, thanks, Big Guy.” Lance batted his eyelashes.

“Well, I’m needed elsewhere, but I’m glad we were able to make this work,” Allura said. “I’ll contact you again if Altea Fitness wants to film another video.”

“Thanks. It was great working with you.” Lance bobbed his head.

“Likewise,” Allura returned. “Have a great rest of your day.” And then she was gone, leaving the three alone.

“So,” Shiro began, catching Keith and Lance’s attention. “I think a celebration is in order.” He rubbed his hands together. “How about brunch at that café we passed on the drive here?”

“That sounds awesome!” Lance beamed. “Just let Keith and me shower real quick and we’ll be good to go!” He was already halfway to the changing area, but Keith stayed behind.

“What’s wrong?” Shiro asked him. “Upset he’ll be changing out of those leggings?”

Keith snorted. “Yes,” he answered honestly. “But I just…” He sighed. “He was amazing, wasn’t he?”

Shiro raised his brows, but looked back at where Lance disappeared behind the door. “Yes, he was.” He folded his arms over his chest and turned toward Keith. “And he’s lucky he had such an amazing boyfriend here to help him out.”

“Don’t tease me, Takashi.”

“I mean it,” Shiro insisted. “Did you see how calm he was when you were up there?”

“He was in his element,” Keith argued.

“Yes,” Shiro agreed. “But he relaxed the moment you said you’d help.” He gently elbowed Keith in the shoulder. “You did good, Sweets.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Keith bumped him back harder.

“Keith!” Lance popped his head out of the door. “Are you coming or what? I want to go to brunch!”

“I’m coming,” Keith answered, beginning to walk toward him. “Oh, and Shiro said he’s paying!” he added, sending a wicked grin over his shoulder.

Shiro shook his head, but he was smiling. He was so proud of his boyfriend.

Both of them.

Chapter Text

“But it would look so good on you!” Lance flattered, holding up the hanger, its contents hidden by a large garment bag. “And besides, you kind of owe me.”

Keith had opened his mouth, ready to object, but then shut it, narrowing his eyes. “You wanna run that by me again?”

“For the whole raffle debacle at our last fundraiser,” Lance clarified. “Remember how I bailed you out?”

With a grunt, Keith crossed his arms over his chest. “I remember you running out to find extra prizes, yes.”

“On New Year’s Eve, in ice cold rain, when almost everything was closed,” Lance went on, giving the concealed costume a little shake. “C’mon, it’s for the children.”

Shiro kept quiet, not wanting to touch this particular argument with a ten-foot pole. It was true that Lance had saved their event a few months earlier, but what he was asking of Keith was... well, it was more than even Lance’s persuasive nature could accomplish. 

“Absolutely not,” Keith held firm. “The children will be fine without it.”

“They will not!” Lance insisted, putting his foot down. “You owe me, Keith, and it’s time to pay up.”

Keith stood up from where he’d been seated on the couch and pushed past Lance, toward their apartment door.

“Where are you going?” Lance asked, his thin brows drawn down.

“I’m sorry, but I have reached my daily amount of bullshit for today,” Keith said with a shrug, pulling his helmet from the closet. “And if I exceed my limits, I may combust and ruin nearby areas.” 

Shiro glanced between his boyfriends. The very air crackled with tension. And if Keith wasn’t blocking the door, Shiro might have attempted an escape.

“Keith,” Lance started again, tone darker than Shiro had ever heard it. “You’re going to wear this bunny costume and take pictures with the kids or I swear you will never, ever, ever hear the end of it.”

Keith snorted, but Lance went on.

“And,” he said, wetting his lips, “Shiro and I won’t tell you where we hid the keys to your bike.”

Keith faltered, his eyes going wide as his gaze shifted from Lance to Shiro - who sank deeper into the couch, hoping it would swallow him whole.

“Where are my keys, Lance?” Keith growled.

“Promise you’ll wear the costume.” Lance placed a hand on his hip and held the hanger forward.

Shiro felt Keith’s eyes on him before he even looked back up.

“Shiro-”

“Don’t you say a word, Takashi,” Lance threatened.

Finally, after a few more agonizing breaths, Keith’s shoulders slumped. “Fine.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’ll wear the stupid costume.”

Lance’s face broke into a smile. He was practically beaming. “I knew you’d see things my way.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Keith took the hanger from his hand with a sigh. “Now, where are my keys?”

Lance’s grin turned devious. “In Shiro’s back pocket.”

They both turned their gazes on him and Shiro gulped.

Well, at least they weren’t fighting anymore.

Chapter Text

Keith had done it once again, as he usually did. It was just hard to keep track of time when he was laying into the punching bag like it owed him money. Honestly, as much as he loved both running and weightlifting, it was kickboxing that was his real favorite. It was hard to be angry or frustrated when you’d just taken all of that aggression out on seventy to a hundred pounds of inanimate, faceless polyvinyl.

Though, sometimes he did have a face to picture.

But that was neither here nor there. For the moment, Keith was happy. He had a bounce in his step as he headed toward the showers, intent on finding his boyfriends and heading home to veg on the couch and watch that movie Lance had been going on about since Monday.

It was only Wednesday, but Keith had already caved. It’s not like romcoms were his least favorite thing to watch. And frankly, this was not the hill he wanted to die on.

Plus, it would make Lance happy and, despite how they bickered, Keith loved seeing that hundred-watt smile light up his boyfriend’s goofily adorable face.

And Shiro would enjoy teasing him for giving in so soon. But Keith liked making him happy, too, after all.

He was nearly to the showers, when Keith spotted a light on in one of the classrooms. It was a little late for Lance’s yoga class to still be going on and he didn’t have his second Zumba session on Wednesdays. Curiosity piqued, Keith crept forward, intent on peering through the rectangular window in the door.

Keith was surprised to find the door open a crack, though his best view would still be through the window. He was about to take a peek, doing his best to look inconspicuous, but he froze when he heard a noise from inside. A very familiar noise.

It was Shiro’s voice. And he was moaning.

Call it a Pavlovian response, but Keith’s body immediately heated up, though he tried his best to damp it down. The last thing he needed was for someone to walk by and see him turned on in the middle of the hallway.

Never mind that it was so late, most – if not all – of the gym patrons had already left for the night.

Swallowing the tremendous amount of saliva that had suddenly filled his mouth, Keith drew just a bit closer. Perhaps he’d imagined it. After all, Shiro wasn’t the type to take advantage of the gym after hours. That’s why the owner had trusted him with the keys – much to Lance’s indignant chagrin, as well as jealousy. He’d pouted for hours until Shiro had kissed it away.

But back to the matter at hand, Shiro would not use any of the empty classrooms to do anything naughty. It just wasn’t in his character. It definitely wasn’t something he’d—

“L-Lance…” Shiro moaned and Keith’s face heated further, a pleasurable tingle making its way up his spine.

Okay. Shiro wouldn’t take advantage of an empty classroom. But Lance sure would.

“Relax,” Lance’s voice followed, low and soothing. “You’re so tight…”

Keith straightened, his eyes going wide. He nearly tripped over his own feet as he moved to look through the window. He couldn’t see much from this vantage point, but what he could make out was Lance’s backside – wow, those squats had definitely paid off – and the fact that the other man was leaning over Shiro, his hands pushing down on his lower back.

Lance was still wearing his leggings – in the back, at least – but Keith couldn’t rule out that his boyfriends were up to something inappropriate in the otherwise empty yoga classroom. And without him! How many times had Keith propositioned Shiro to fool around after a particularly good sparring session only to be told it was ‘inappropriate?’ Lance, of course, never had a problem acquiescing.

Now, Keith would have dissected this situation further, if not for another long, low moan interrupting his thoughts.

“Lance…please…”

“Just a bit more, you big baby,” Lance returned in a singsong voice. “I’ve just about got you loosened up.”

All right. That was enough. Keith wasn’t going to stand idly by – read: voyeuristically – while his boyfriends did the dirty without him. Ugh, now he was even starting to think like Lance…

Still, they could have at least waited a minute. Though, if Keith’s mind hadn’t been flooded with frustration, he could have easily come to the conclusion that they had waited and that he’d taken too long by losing track of time during his own workout. But he was already opening the door and two steps into the room before that even had a chance to occur to him.

“And just why are you two…” Keith trailed off, blinking as he took in the scene before him.

Shiro was bent over his spread knees, his arms stretched out in front of him and his forehead pressed into the mat below him – or, at least it was until he whipped his head toward Keith. Lance was behind him, pushing Shiro’s hips down so his butt touched his heels. They were…

“…stretching?” Keith blinked again.

“Yeah,” Lance replied, eyebrows still raised to his hairline. “Shiro’s hips were still feeling tight after we finished class.” He cocked his head to the side, releasing his hold on Shiro. “You okay, babe?”

“Keith?” Shiro chimed in when he didn’t answer. He sat up, his face mirroring Lance’s.

Well, Keith had certainly made quite the assumption. His ears burned in embarrassment, but there was no way he was going to admit that he thought Shiro and Lance were having sex without him in the yoga classroom. Maybe he could play it off.

But suddenly, Lance’s expression changed, his lips curling up in a wicked, knowing grin. “And just what did you think we were doing, Keith?” he teased.

And Shiro – who could be so adorably clueless sometimes – somehow immediately picked up on it. He smirked. “Yeah, Keith. You certainly were in a rush.” They were practically cackling.

Keith swallowed. There was no lying to them. Frankly, there was no living with them – and yet, he’d managed…going on how many years now? – And so, with a deep breath, Keith plastered on a smirk of his own. “Why don’t we head home and I’ll help stretch you both out properly?”

Oh, but would it work? Shiro was easy to fluster. But Lance?

Suddenly, both of his boyfriends turned bright shades of red. Though, Lance was the first to recover. He coughed into his fist and then, as if by a switch, turned on his bedroom eyes. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

“Wasn’t a threat,” Keith said with a shrug as he took a few steps closer. “More like…a promise.”

Shiro was on his feet now, walking over to his bag in the corner. “I’ve got to lock up first.” He said, hurrying to pick it up. “And we should really shower-”

“We have a perfectly good shower at home,” Lance interjected, gathering up his own belongings. “Now, scoot, both of you.” But he paused, leveling Keith with a confident, almost haughty stare. “Just remember how flexible I am, babe,” he threw out with a wink.

And if Keith walked a little bit faster toward the exit, neither boyfriend pointed it out.

Chapter Text

It starts with Lance coyly asking Keith if he's noticed anything different about him.

Keith, who's failed to pick up on subtler differences in the past, immediately sets his phone down and opens his mouth to ask-

"One hint," Lance says before he can, but poses a question that only confuses Keith further. "Hasn't my skin felt softer?" He bats his eyelashes

Keith swallows and sits up, treading carefully. "Lance, your skin is always soft."

Lance smiles in response - which is good, Keith thinks - but shakes his head. "More specifically..." He steps closer so he's standing right in front of Keith. "My blegs."

Keith rolls his eyes at that. Back before Lance started strength training with Shiro and him, his steady diet of cardio and yoga left Lance lacking in the booty department - Lance's words - which was why he called his butt "blegs" - "like my back goes straight into my legs" - Which was silly, cuz even then, Keith loved Lance's butt. Shiro, too.

"Ahem." Lance clears his throat.

Keith returns to the present. "Your... butt... is softer?"

Honestly, Keith had thought it was getting firmer.

Lance crosses his arms over his chest and Keith knows he's made a mistake. "Ugh, they said to give it a couple weeks, but-"

Keith raises his brows. "They?"

"The company that makes my booty scrub."

Now Keith's sure his eyebrows have been lost in the area above his hairline. "Your what?"

"My booty scrub," Lance repeats like it's completely normal. Like he's mentioned it before. "I guess I should give it a few more-"

"Booty scrub," Keith manages, trying to understand. "What the hell is that?"

Lance grins. "Want me to show you?"

-

And that's how Shiro walks in on the two of them, Lance with his pants around his ankles, his body draped over Keith's lap, and Keith amply applying a pink, sweet-smelling body scrub directly onto Lance's cheeks.

They look up at him - Keith like he's been caught with his hand in the cookie jar and Lance with an innocent little smile. "Welcome home, 'Kashi."

"It's a beauty scrub!" Keith blurts. "For his skin."

Shiro just nods, biting back a chuckle. "Oh?" Though he has to admit, it would have been nice if Lance had asked /him/ for help, too.

"Oh, don't make that face," Lance snorts. "I'll let you apply the clay mask."

Keith's hands - which had somehow not stopped rubbing soothing circles into Lance's backside - froze. "There's a mask, too?!"

Needless to say, Lance never had to handle his own skincare regimen again.